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 Bangladesh and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
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 arpeggiator 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the disco 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Cecil Taylor,
Sparks,
Quadrant,
Lebanon Hanover,
Loose Ends,
Soul Sonic Force,
Terry Callier,
New York Dolls,
OOIOO,
Cal Tjader,
Q65,
Interpol,
Warsaw,
T. Rex,
Yazoo,
Davy DMX,
Average White Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Five Americans,
B.T. Express,
Ultravox,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Byron Stingily,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Lydon,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Clarke,
Depeche Mode,
the Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fall,
David McCallum,
The United States of America,
New Order,
The Wake,
Essential Logic,
Yusef Lateef,
the Swans,
Audionom,
Vladislav Delay,
The Victims,
The Neon Judgement,
Kevin Saunderson,
MC5,
Youth Brigade,
Procol Harum,
Swans,
The Grass Roots,
Janne Schatter,
X-Ray Spex,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kayak,
Johnny Osbourne,
Model 500,
A Certain Ratio,
China Crisis,
The Mummies,
Brothers Johnson,
The Tremeloes,
The Red Krayola,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.