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 Eritrea and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 In Retrospect to the punk 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Nick Fraelich,
Amon Düül II,
New Age Steppers,
Suburban Knight,
China Crisis,
Bad Manners,
Yellowson,
Lindisfarne,
The Names,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boz Scaggs,
Livin' Joy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joy Division,
Public Image Ltd.,
Porter Ricks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deadbeat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
This Heat,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Litter,
Sight & Sound,
Juan Atkins,
The Birthday Party,
The Skatalites,
Smog,
Joe Finger,
Eli Mardock,
H. Thieme,
Babytalk,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Wake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Glenn Branca,
Skaos,
Brass Construction,
June Days,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Flag,
Nas,
Jacques Brel,
Oblivians,
The Barracudas,
Jimmy McGriff,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Lydon,
John Holt,
Brothers Johnson,
Hoover,
The Fuzztones,
Tim Buckley,
Lee Hazlewood,
Judy Mowatt,
Harry Pussy,
Kerri Chandler,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.