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 East Timor and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Surgeon,
Basic Channel,
L. Decosne,
Deadbeat,
Iggy Pop,
The Wake,
The Fall,
Quantec,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Second Layer,
Sex Pistols,
Pantaleimon,
The Selecter,
Spoonie Gee,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jacques Brel,
Pole,
Radiohead,
John Lydon,
Half Japanese,
Scott Walker,
The Raincoats,
Sister Nancy,
Unwound,
Bobby Byrd,
The Human League,
Echospace,
Hardrive,
The Divine Comedy,
Slave,
Outsiders,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dirtbombs,
Dawn Penn,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marmalade,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Boredoms,
Simply Red,
Terrestrial Tones,
Laurel Aitken,
Faust,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mary Jane Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
Blancmange,
Peter and Kerry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joy Division,
The Angels of Light,
Trumans Water,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fugs,
The Blackbyrds,
One Last Wish,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.