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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Ossler to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Model 500,
ABBA,
Scion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Second Layer,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fad Gadget,
Youth Brigade,
Bang On A Can,
L. Decosne,
Darondo,
Bronski Beat,
John Holt,
Swans,
The Invisible,
Mission of Burma,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Green,
Circle Jerks,
Television,
E-Dancer,
John Foxx,
Urselle,
Junior Murvin,
Das Ding,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tears for Fears,
Rakim,
Siglo XX,
The Vogues,
Aswad,
ABC,
The Human League,
10cc,
Bootsy Collins,
Procol Harum,
The Names,
Cameo,
Moebius,
Sandy B,
Gabor Szabo,
Graham Central Station,
In Retrospect,
Malaria!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wire,
Lyres,
Shuggie Otis,
Kaleidoscope,
Zero Boys,
Y Pants,
June of 44,
China Crisis,
Funky Four + One,
Sugar Minott,
The Saints,
Excepter,
Sällskapet,
Eric Dolphy,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.