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 El Salvador and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare 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 Yaz 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Buzzcocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chrome,
Brass Construction,
Iggy Pop,
AZ,
Rhythm & Sound,
Simply Red,
Model 500,
Tim Buckley,
Negative Approach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gun Club,
The Beau Brummels,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Coltrane,
Circle Jerks,
In Retrospect,
The Leaves,
The Detroit Cobras,
a-ha,
Tommy Roe,
Bad Manners,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Echospace,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Moleskins,
Hoover,
Spoonie Gee,
Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neil Young,
Erasure,
The Associates,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Five Americans,
The Monochrome Set,
Graham Central Station,
Aloha Tigers,
X-Ray Spex,
Barry Ungar,
Archie Shepp,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Technova,
The Durutti Column,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pere Ubu,
Eve St. Jones,
Ronan,
Sex Pistols,
Rites of Spring,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
L. Decosne,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fall,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.