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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 Pussy Galore to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Talk Talk,
Lyres,
Soul II Soul,
Rufus Thomas,
The Young Rascals,
Sarah Menescal,
Unrelated Segments,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gichy Dan,
New Age Steppers,
Blancmange,
Howard Jones,
La Düsseldorf,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swans,
AZ,
Shoche,
The Slackers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Graham Central Station,
Sonic Youth,
Parry Music,
Dawn Penn,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
T. Rex,
Joy Division,
Deakin,
The Selecter,
Quadrant,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ken Boothe,
The Shadows of Knight,
Reuben Wilson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Goldenarms,
Los Fastidios,
Saccharine Trust,
Heaven 17,
Lindisfarne,
David McCallum,
The Blackbyrds,
Schoolly D,
The Fall,
Mandrill,
Theoretical Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Severed Heads,
Mad Mike,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Alphaville,
The Martian,
The Motions,
Fad Gadget,
John Holt,
Roxette,
Interpol,
Intrusion,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.