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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eric Copeland to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
The Walker Brothers,
Audionom,
Los Fastidios,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minutemen,
Electric Prunes,
Bob Dylan,
Ultravox,
Rapeman,
The Angels of Light,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Sound,
The Invisible,
Lindisfarne,
E-Dancer,
Albert Ayler,
Dead Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Kenny Larkin,
Yazoo,
Wasted Youth,
The Zeros,
the Bar-Kays,
Faust,
Banda Bassotti,
Jandek,
Simply Red,
Frankie Knuckles,
A Flock of Seagulls,
One Last Wish,
Suburban Knight,
Urselle,
Siglo XX,
Index,
David McCallum,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Christie,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Groovy Waters,
Intrusion,
These Immortal Souls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wire,
Camberwell Now,
The Gladiators,
Rosa Yemen,
Isaac Hayes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marvin Gaye,
Yellowson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Buckinghams,
Talk Talk,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Procol Harum,
Rites of Spring,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.