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 Ecuador and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin 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 Loose Ends to the grunge 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Black Dice,
The Angels of Light,
Wings,
Jerry's Kids,
Fatback Band,
Skarface,
Andrew Hill,
Peter and Kerry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Techniques,
The Pretty Things,
The Remains,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Vogues,
The Dead C,
ABC,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
K-Klass,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fire Engines,
This Heat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Porter Ricks,
The Skatalites,
Swell Maps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Grass Roots,
Absolute Body Control,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Görl,
The Cowsills,
Mary Jane Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crime,
Von Mondo,
Roger Hodgson,
Glenn Branca,
Franke,
Mars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wally Richardson,
Joe Smooth,
Television,
Sugar Minott,
the Soft Cell,
Gil Scott Heron,
Connie Case,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Howard Jones,
The Modern Lovers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terry Callier,
Scion,
Donald Byrd,
Smog,
Visage,
Amon Düül,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.