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 Botswana and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
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 synthesizer 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the funk 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Freddie Wadling,
Fear,
Siglo XX,
The Trojans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roy Ayers,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
Pantaleimon,
R.M.O.,
Thompson Twins,
Average White Band,
Al Stewart,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gap Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bluetip,
Eurythmics,
Black Flag,
Fugazi,
MC5,
Crime,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Unwound,
K-Klass,
Throbbing Gristle,
Public Enemy,
Y Pants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spoonie Gee,
Joy Division,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Martian,
Byron Stingily,
Pere Ubu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
The Golliwogs,
Sonic Youth,
Colin Newman,
Donald Byrd,
Khruangbin,
A Certain Ratio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
One Last Wish,
Smog,
Reuben Wilson,
Maleditus Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Sixth Finger,
Radiohead,
Soft Cell,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.