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 Jordan and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba 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 kango's stein massive to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
The Trojans,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Style,
Scratch Acid,
June of 44,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Names,
Davy DMX,
Pussy Galore,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sparks,
John Holt,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kurtis Blow,
Popol Vuh,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Erasure,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fugazi,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Depeche Mode,
AZ,
X-101,
The Victims,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wolf Eyes,
Fad Gadget,
MC5,
Ossler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Sherman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
MDC,
Black Moon,
The Divine Comedy,
La Düsseldorf,
Gong,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Absolute Body Control,
The Searchers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ituana,
John Coltrane,
The Star Department,
The Barracudas,
Monks,
A Certain Ratio,
Harmonia,
Patti Smith,
Lou Reed,
The Doobie Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Thompson Twins,
Ponytail,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ronan,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.