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 Monaco and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Michael McDonald 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 Scrapy to the techno 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roger Hodgson,
The Buckinghams,
AZ,
Stereo Dub,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eli Mardock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wings,
Michelle Simonal,
Deepchord,
Kurtis Blow,
Mo-Dettes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
In Retrospect,
Scratch Acid,
Scott Walker,
The Golliwogs,
Blancmange,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fall,
The Doors,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Music Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tears for Fears,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Babytalk,
Chris & Cosey,
the Slits,
Kerri Chandler,
Metal Thangz,
The Sound,
This Heat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Pretty Things,
The Slits,
The Gladiators,
The Smoke,
The Gories,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unrelated Segments,
Crime,
UT,
Eddi Front,
Marcia Griffiths,
Don Cherry,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cramps,
Moss Icon,
Television Personalities,
Maurizio,
Camberwell Now,
Henry Cow,
Erasure,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.