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 Venezuela and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Radiopuhelimet to the techno 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus 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?
The Smoke,
The Dead C,
Metal Thangz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monochrome Set,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bluetip,
Ohio Players,
Henry Cow,
Minny Pops,
Eric Dolphy,
Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Barrington Levy,
CMW,
Lakeside,
John Foxx,
Fad Gadget,
China Crisis,
Nick Fraelich,
The Angels of Light,
Unwound,
Derrick Morgan,
Man Parrish,
Basic Channel,
Ronan,
Essential Logic,
Cameo,
The Count Five,
Reagan Youth,
Camberwell Now,
Bronski Beat,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Young Rascals,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Electric Prunes,
Model 500,
The Star Department,
Magazine,
Nico,
Wolf Eyes,
Urselle,
Marc Almond,
K-Klass,
David Bowie,
Babytalk,
DJ Style,
H. Thieme,
Accadde A,
Chris & Cosey,
Funkadelic,
The Vogues,
Mandrill,
Alice Coltrane,
Thompson Twins,
Sister Nancy,
The New Christs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ludus,
Trumans Water,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.