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 Germany and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Nile Rodgers 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the electroclash 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Byron Stingily,
Fear,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bush Tetras,
T. Rex,
Charles Mingus,
Groovy Waters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sarah Menescal,
Alice Coltrane,
Fugazi,
Chris Corsano,
The Motions,
Jeru the Damaja,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Glenn Branca,
Con Funk Shun,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Black Pus,
Cecil Taylor,
Wasted Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythm & Sound,
JFA,
Sandy B,
Blossom Toes,
Animal Collective,
Make Up,
Accadde A,
Neil Young,
48th St. Collective,
Sonic Youth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eve St. Jones,
Sex Pistols,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
David Axelrod,
Marc Almond,
Section 25,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Monochrome Set,
The Mummies,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Beau Brummels,
The Misunderstood,
Matthew Halsall,
Neu!,
Ultravox,
Alison Limerick,
Morten Harket,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Moleskins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moby Grape,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.