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 Saudi Arabia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Grandmaster Flash,
Malaria!,
The Slits,
Quadrant,
Bluetip,
The Smoke,
John Lydon,
Index,
Shoche,
Drexciya,
Television Personalities,
Smog,
One Last Wish,
Scrapy,
The Happenings,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Panda Bear,
Kurtis Blow,
Moebius,
Robert Wyatt,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Swans,
Liliput,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Chrome,
The Moleskins,
Joe Smooth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Mills,
The Victims,
Harry Pussy,
Sällskapet,
Howard Jones,
Joe Finger,
Lou Christie,
Subhumans,
Laurel Aitken,
Electric Prunes,
D'Angelo,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
June of 44,
Gil Scott Heron,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Aural Exciters,
Mantronix,
Slave,
The Index,
Zapp,
The Selecter,
Wally Richardson,
Black Bananas,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deepchord,
Lebanon Hanover,
Massinfluence,
The New Christs,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.