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 the UAE and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Harry Pussy to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Chrome,
The American Breed,
Visage,
CMW,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Josef K,
KRS-One,
The Barracudas,
Parry Music,
Q65,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sparks,
The Moody Blues,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Dirtbombs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barry Ungar,
The Neon Judgement,
Thompson Twins,
Eden Ahbez,
Roxy Music,
Interpol,
Swell Maps,
Wasted Youth,
Black Moon,
Rosa Yemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronan,
Das Ding,
The Angels of Light,
The Motions,
Surgeon,
Outsiders,
The Mojo Men,
Sun Ra,
Slave,
Model 500,
ABBA,
Max Romeo,
Porter Ricks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Wake,
The Blackbyrds,
One Last Wish,
Nico,
Man Parrish,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Starr,
Henry Cow,
The Stooges,
Con Funk Shun,
The Associates,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gun Club,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Subhumans,
Blake Baxter,
Dual Sessions,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.