Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Zimbabwe and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Goldenarms to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Albert Ayler,
Smog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Selecter,
Gang Green,
Girls At Our Best!,
Popol Vuh,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacques Brel,
Jawbox,
Avey Tare,
The Doors,
The Names,
The Beau Brummels,
In Retrospect,
Television Personalities,
Kurtis Blow,
Faust,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fela Kuti,
B.T. Express,
Scott Walker,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxy Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Howard Jones,
New York Dolls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Darondo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cybotron,
Whodini,
Simply Red,
Animal Collective,
Sun Ra,
Funkadelic,
the Soft Cell,
The Evens,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Livin' Joy,
Isaac Hayes,
Sonic Youth,
Eli Mardock,
Supertramp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
World's Most,
Reuben Wilson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.