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 Bahrain and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Spandau Ballet to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Swell Maps,
Scratch Acid,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fela Kuti,
Flash Fearless,
Sex Pistols,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eric Copeland,
Bill Near,
The Birthday Party,
The Sound,
Nico,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Leaves,
The Moody Blues,
X-Ray Spex,
The Detroit Cobras,
Youth Brigade,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tres Demented,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Neil Young,
Quadrant,
Smog,
Man Parrish,
Visage,
Tomorrow,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roxy Music,
Groovy Waters,
Faust,
The Red Krayola,
John Holt,
Zapp,
Banda Bassotti,
ABBA,
Minny Pops,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dual Sessions,
Yazoo,
OOIOO,
The Gladiators,
Half Japanese,
Mark Hollis,
The Dirtbombs,
Organ,
The Real Kids,
Amon Düül II,
China Crisis,
Dead Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delta 5,
Rites of Spring,
Marine Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fugs,
the Germs,
Livin' Joy,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.