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 Togo and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scion to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
The Smoke,
Derrick May,
Amon Düül II,
Eddi Front,
The Velvet Underground,
Suburban Knight,
Newcleus,
Black Sheep,
Tommy Roe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
B.T. Express,
Fad Gadget,
Mad Mike,
Cluster,
Boredoms,
Country Teasers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
48th St. Collective,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Drive Like Jehu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Malaria!,
T. Rex,
Gong,
Donny Hathaway,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Terry Callier,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Bronski Beat,
LL Cool J,
Young Marble Giants,
Mr. Review,
Mary Jane Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Agent Orange,
The Golliwogs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scratch Acid,
Y Pants,
Sparks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Intrusion,
Warsaw,
Yaz,
The Blackbyrds,
Althea and Donna,
UT,
Second Layer,
Pere Ubu,
Patti Smith,
Motorama,
Max Romeo,
Camberwell Now,
Brothers Johnson,
Moss Icon,
The Victims,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.