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 Palau and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Arthur Verocai,
Rekid,
Henry Cow,
Skarface,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Coltrane,
Wire,
Aloha Tigers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Silicon Teens,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Cale,
The J.B.'s,
Aaron Thompson,
Yellowson,
Cheater Slicks,
the Normal,
Quando Quango,
Masters at Work,
Desert Stars,
Second Layer,
The Walker Brothers,
Monks,
Sister Nancy,
Joe Finger,
Sun Ra,
Pussy Galore,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alice Coltrane,
10cc,
Lower 48,
Sound Behaviour,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amon Düül,
The Golliwogs,
Rufus Thomas,
Faraquet,
Scrapy,
The Mummies,
Brick,
The Offenders,
Trumans Water,
Brand Nubian,
Cal Tjader,
Accadde A,
Jerry's Kids,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lightning Bolt,
Gabor Szabo,
The Moody Blues,
Neil Young,
The United States of America,
The Beau Brummels,
Organ,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.