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 Egypt and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 Rosa Yemen to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Trumans Water,
Ornette Coleman,
Nico,
The Raincoats,
Accadde A,
Sarah Menescal,
Terrestrial Tones,
Shuggie Otis,
Los Fastidios,
Cecil Taylor,
Boredoms,
Byron Stingily,
The Happenings,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nils Olav,
Jeru the Damaja,
Piero Umiliani,
Rotary Connection,
Agent Orange,
Bill Near,
Lucky Dragons,
Big Daddy Kane,
Warsaw,
Swell Maps,
Roy Ayers,
Tears for Fears,
Cymande,
Soul Sonic Force,
Steve Hackett,
Nirvana,
The Beau Brummels,
E-Dancer,
Joy Division,
Ice-T,
The Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Judy Mowatt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
ABBA,
The Remains,
Lebanon Hanover,
Babytalk,
Outsiders,
The Human League,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hasil Adkins,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tomorrow,
The Searchers,
Scan 7,
Lower 48,
Ten City,
Black Bananas,
Bronski Beat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Blancmange,
Rekid,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.