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 Samoa and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Soft Cell to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Motorama,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Green,
Niagra,
Joe Smooth,
Jawbox,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flipper,
Wasted Youth,
Radiohead,
The Offenders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Vogues,
EPMD,
Outsiders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pantaleimon,
Franke,
Kaleidoscope,
Patti Smith,
The Fall,
X-102,
Joey Negro,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Divine Comedy,
cv313,
Magma,
Goldenarms,
Tommy Roe,
Jeff Lynne,
New Age Steppers,
Harmonia,
Animal Collective,
Faraquet,
Symarip,
H. Thieme,
John Lydon,
Henry Cow,
Darondo,
Reagan Youth,
The Moleskins,
Harry Pussy,
X-Ray Spex,
Negative Approach,
Visage,
The Grass Roots,
Young Marble Giants,
A Flock of Seagulls,
UT,
Jeff Mills,
the Normal,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Can,
Con Funk Shun,
Hardrive,
The Music Machine,
Tom Boy,
Lakeside,
Black Moon,
Severed Heads,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.