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 Finland and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron 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 Tropical Tobacco to the electroclash 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Ken Boothe,
Brothers Johnson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Qualms,
The Angels of Light,
The Fall,
David Axelrod,
Brand Nubian,
Chrome,
The Skatalites,
Visage,
Kevin Saunderson,
DNA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cameo,
Jerry's Kids,
Arthur Verocai,
Cecil Taylor,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cal Tjader,
Suburban Knight,
Amazonics,
World's Most,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Prince Buster,
The Blackbyrds,
The Mummies,
Anthony Braxton,
Reagan Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Main Source,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sandy B,
The Martian,
Jeff Mills,
Altered Images,
K-Klass,
Little Man,
Chris & Cosey,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Techniques,
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yaz,
the Germs,
The Monochrome Set,
The Blues Magoos,
Neu!,
Wally Richardson,
Livin' Joy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nirvana,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lakeside,
The Dead C,
Organ,
Lou Reed,
Kayak,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.