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 Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nick Fraelich,
Crispian St. Peters,
Intrusion,
Anthony Braxton,
Unwound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Outsiders,
The Martian,
Bronski Beat,
Sugar Minott,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ossler,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed,
Darondo,
The Durutti Column,
the Germs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Buzzcocks,
The Blackbyrds,
Public Enemy,
Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
Fela Kuti,
Scratch Acid,
Television Personalities,
Bill Wells,
Monolake,
The Selecter,
Howard Jones,
the Sonics,
The Zeros,
Camberwell Now,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aural Exciters,
Joensuu 1685,
The Searchers,
The Fugs,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Young Rascals,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Davy DMX,
Pylon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang of Four,
the Normal,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pierre Henry,
The Mummies,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultravox,
Simply Red,
The Trojans,
The Names,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.