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 Antigua and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Youth Brigade 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
David McCallum,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Terry Callier,
D'Angelo,
Depeche Mode,
Lalann,
Eddi Front,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Altered Images,
T.S.O.L.,
CMW,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lakeside,
Bootsy Collins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Dead C,
The United States of America,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Agent Orange,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Jeff Lynne,
Prince Buster,
Nik Kershaw,
The Happenings,
Oneida,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brick,
The Divine Comedy,
Lyres,
Deakin,
Panda Bear,
Danielle Patucci,
Max Romeo,
the Normal,
The Count Five,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fatback Band,
Ken Boothe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Godley & Creme,
Pulsallama,
Joy Division,
Sandy B,
Groovy Waters,
The Birthday Party,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fugs,
The Victims,
The Zeros,
Hasil Adkins,
T. Rex,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hot Snakes,
Bronski Beat,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.