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 Algeria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba 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 Darondo to the jazz 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Outsiders,
Excepter,
Bush Tetras,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bauhaus,
Sonic Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Normal,
Amon Düül,
Thompson Twins,
Liliput,
The Victims,
Graham Central Station,
The Gun Club,
The Fall,
Judy Mowatt,
Stetsasonic,
The Electric Prunes,
Eve St. Jones,
Section 25,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Amon Düül II,
June of 44,
Amazonics,
Country Teasers,
Swell Maps,
Wally Richardson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Matthew Bourne,
Bad Manners,
Al Stewart,
Camouflage,
Newcleus,
Godley & Creme,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dead Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Black Flag,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brass Construction,
Sarah Menescal,
T. Rex,
Pierre Henry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pantytec,
Ludus,
Blake Baxter,
Maurizio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chris Corsano,
Laurel Aitken,
The Vogues,
The Smoke,
The Monochrome Set,
Fela Kuti,
Tommy Roe,
the Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.