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 Mauritania and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Sixth Finger to the disco 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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Lalann,
The Names,
Blancmange,
Circle Jerks,
The Skatalites,
AZ,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Underground Resistance,
Dave Gahan,
Eli Mardock,
The Walker Brothers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eurythmics,
Pantytec,
The United States of America,
Symarip,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neu!,
Fela Kuti,
Khruangbin,
Harry Pussy,
Tres Demented,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Don Cherry,
Marvin Gaye,
Fat Boys,
Crime,
Spandau Ballet,
Technova,
The Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Jandek,
Joey Negro,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mark Hollis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Interpol,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fad Gadget,
Skriet,
Suburban Knight,
Arcadia,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joy Division,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pere Ubu,
New Order,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Residents,
Stiv Bators,
The Wake,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Sherman,
David Axelrod,
Scratch Acid,
Lyres,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jeff Lynne,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.