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 France and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum 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 Shadows of Knight to the rap 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Idris Muhammad,
Nico,
Rod Modell,
Adolescents,
Pylon,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stetsasonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agitation Free,
Lungfish,
Amazonics,
the Germs,
Sparks,
Robert Görl,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aloha Tigers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hot Snakes,
Clear Light,
Royal Trux,
Cluster,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hoover,
Marine Girls,
Model 500,
Tim Buckley,
Rufus Thomas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Monochrome Set,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arcadia,
In Retrospect,
Neu!,
John Foxx,
Ronan,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harpers Bizarre,
Silicon Teens,
The Index,
Pussy Galore,
DJ Sneak,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Second Layer,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Moby Grape,
H. Thieme,
Babytalk,
Ponytail,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.