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 Zambia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Birthday Party to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
The Five Americans,
Tres Demented,
Black Pus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Human League,
Can,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Guru Guru,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ultravox,
The Slackers,
Cymande,
Scott Walker,
Bootsy Collins,
The Misunderstood,
Jandek,
Darondo,
the Sonics,
T.S.O.L.,
Letta Mbulu,
The Residents,
CMW,
Spoonie Gee,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Q and Not U,
The Happenings,
Aural Exciters,
Juan Atkins,
Eddi Front,
Cheater Slicks,
Angry Samoans,
Piero Umiliani,
Icehouse,
Jerry Gold Smith,
H. Thieme,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harmonia,
a-ha,
Warren Ellis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hardrive,
John Foxx,
Sister Nancy,
Tears for Fears,
Ultra Naté,
The Birthday Party,
The Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
Ossler,
The Litter,
Deepchord,
The Selecter,
Scientists,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Soft Cell,
Bronski Beat,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.