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 Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Gang of Four to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Ludus,
The Fall,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Last Poets,
Altered Images,
the Slits,
Bang On A Can,
Circle Jerks,
Q and Not U,
Fear,
Arthur Verocai,
Sugar Minott,
Terry Callier,
Eurythmics,
Mission of Burma,
The Index,
Absolute Body Control,
Panda Bear,
Make Up,
Suicide,
Blancmange,
Adolescents,
The Evens,
The Durutti Column,
Yazoo,
Nick Fraelich,
Nico,
K-Klass,
Roxy Music,
Eli Mardock,
Lower 48,
JFA,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Radio Birdman,
The Barracudas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marine Girls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Five Americans,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Country Teasers,
Judy Mowatt,
Massinfluence,
The Gun Club,
Brothers Johnson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joy Division,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sonics,
Soft Machine,
Groovy Waters,
Delta 5,
The Velvet Underground,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Hill,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.