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 Spain and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Halifax.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Johnny Osbourne to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Y Pants,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Divine Comedy,
Marcia Griffiths,
PIL,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tubeway Army,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Normal,
New Age Steppers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
June of 44,
The Black Dice,
Colin Newman,
Lakeside,
Qualms,
Todd Terry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arthur Verocai,
Youth Brigade,
Model 500,
Barrington Levy,
Donald Byrd,
X-Ray Spex,
Saccharine Trust,
The Victims,
The Beau Brummels,
Mo-Dettes,
Gichy Dan,
Angry Samoans,
The Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Sherman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Althea and Donna,
The Slackers,
The Moody Blues,
Nirvana,
Yaz,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cameo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
La Düsseldorf,
Eli Mardock,
Blancmange,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siglo XX,
Chris & Cosey,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flash Fearless,
the Swans,
Susan Cadogan,
Fela Kuti,
The United States of America,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.