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 Honduras and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Black Flag,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
MDC,
The United States of America,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June of 44,
Kenny Larkin,
Pantaleimon,
Magma,
Hashim,
Sun Ra,
Crooked Eye,
Country Joe & The Fish,
8 Eyed Spy,
L. Decosne,
Parry Music,
Kevin Saunderson,
UT,
the Sonics,
Altered Images,
Dawn Penn,
The Cure,
Oneida,
Marine Girls,
The Kinks,
Infiniti,
Pussy Galore,
Mark Hollis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Unwound,
Robert Görl,
Interpol,
The Wake,
Tom Boy,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Byrd,
The Pop Group,
Sällskapet,
Yellowson,
Sexual Harrassment,
David McCallum,
Liliput,
Deepchord,
Anakelly,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angry Samoans,
A Certain Ratio,
Morten Harket,
Godley & Creme,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Henry Cow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Half Japanese,
The Blues Magoos,
Monks,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.