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 Switzerland and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Roxy Music,
Yazoo,
The Five Americans,
Sun City Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dead Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Moebius,
X-102,
Underground Resistance,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grauzone,
The Gun Club,
Nick Fraelich,
Supertramp,
Q and Not U,
John Cale,
EPMD,
a-ha,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suicide,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sight & Sound,
Pulsallama,
Roy Ayers,
Young Marble Giants,
Saccharine Trust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ornette Coleman,
Nas,
Sound Behaviour,
Warren Ellis,
The Martian,
The Knickerbockers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Skaos,
Schoolly D,
Sonny Sharrock,
Subhumans,
Kas Product,
The Index,
Rites of Spring,
Rotary Connection,
Erasure,
The Litter,
David Bowie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Zeros,
Scientists,
The Names,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Aloha Tigers,
Fad Gadget,
Janne Schatter,
Scratch Acid,
Flash Fearless,
Ohio Players,
Section 25,
Amon Düül II,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.