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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Harry Pussy to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Black Moon,
Y Pants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rufus Thomas,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Magma,
Sun Ra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
MC5,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minnie Riperton,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Symarip,
Harmonia,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nirvana,
The Index,
Q65,
The Dead C,
Aaron Thompson,
Essential Logic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Alison Limerick,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Holt,
Susan Cadogan,
D'Angelo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Subhumans,
Derrick May,
Radiohead,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Birthday Party,
Gichy Dan,
Qualms,
The New Christs,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Wake,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABC,
Gil Scott Heron,
Soft Machine,
Agent Orange,
Eden Ahbez,
Matthew Bourne,
The Moleskins,
Spandau Ballet,
Ossler,
Urselle,
The Motions,
Boredoms,
Joy Division,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.