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 Serbia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grime 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harry Pussy,
Inner City,
The Trojans,
Bill Near,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fela Kuti,
Circle Jerks,
Index,
Agent Orange,
Soft Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
DNA,
The Seeds,
Erasure,
Sam Rivers,
JFA,
Faust,
Brothers Johnson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radiohead,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nik Kershaw,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gun Club,
The Cowsills,
Tom Boy,
Ponytail,
Pole,
Bluetip,
Groovy Waters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tim Buckley,
Kaleidoscope,
Rekid,
Audionom,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Wells,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Germs,
Zero Boys,
AZ,
The Sonics,
The United States of America,
Sonny Sharrock,
Half Japanese,
Fad Gadget,
the Association,
The Doors,
Ten City,
Kas Product,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Wake,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sandy B,
Gang Starr,
Minutemen,
Donald Byrd,
The Vogues,
Mandrill,
The Sound,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.