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 Barbados and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bill Wells to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris Corsano,
The Real Kids,
Young Marble Giants,
Trumans Water,
Rakim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Matthew Halsall,
B.T. Express,
Traffic Nightmare,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rekid,
The Tremeloes,
Sarah Menescal,
Donny Hathaway,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Country Teasers,
The Fugs,
The Knickerbockers,
Underground Resistance,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gladiators,
Terry Callier,
Anthony Braxton,
Bronski Beat,
Newcleus,
The Kinks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Little Man,
Minor Threat,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Bourne,
Mo-Dettes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Blake Baxter,
Interpol,
Pylon,
The Monochrome Set,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Black Dice,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Model 500,
Tubeway Army,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fuzztones,
Neil Young,
Easy Going,
Los Fastidios,
Can,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Laurel Aitken,
Sparks,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.