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 Belize and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 The New Christs to the jazz 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
K-Klass,
Matthew Halsall,
the Sonics,
Jawbox,
Peter and Kerry,
Zero Boys,
Sugar Minott,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Q and Not U,
John Coltrane,
Cluster,
The Cowsills,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fortunes,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Star Department,
X-102,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sparks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soulsonic Force,
Livin' Joy,
Sound Behaviour,
The Sound,
Depeche Mode,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Velvet Underground,
Spandau Ballet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
Shuggie Otis,
Clear Light,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Gap Band,
Whodini,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Cal Tjader,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tubeway Army,
Glenn Branca,
Piero Umiliani,
Bad Manners,
Severed Heads,
Ponytail,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minnie Riperton,
Theoretical Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Walker Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Amazonics,
Scientists,
Johnny Clarke,
Vainqueur,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.