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 Grenada and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Procol Harum to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Arthur Verocai,
The Mummies,
Clear Light,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Derrick Morgan,
The Young Rascals,
Grandmaster Flash,
Thee Headcoats,
Boredoms,
Dave Gahan,
Hoover,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sight & Sound,
The Litter,
Gerry Rafferty,
OOIOO,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
June of 44,
Trumans Water,
The Blackbyrds,
The Searchers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Massinfluence,
U.S. Maple,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Glenn Branca,
Wasted Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Zapp,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rapeman,
Bronski Beat,
Alice Coltrane,
T.S.O.L.,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arcadia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monks,
The New Christs,
Second Layer,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New York Dolls,
Mandrill,
John Coltrane,
Circle Jerks,
The Birthday Party,
EPMD,
The Leaves,
Negative Approach,
Ultra Naté,
Vainqueur,
Nick Fraelich,
Pierre Henry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Absolute Body Control,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Normal,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.