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 Sudan and from Edmonton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
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 snare 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the disco 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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brand Nubian,
Tomorrow,
Lyres,
the Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
Nick Fraelich,
Hardrive,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crime,
Monolake,
Youth Brigade,
Alison Limerick,
Suicide,
DJ Sneak,
Spandau Ballet,
Max Romeo,
Ultravox,
Bauhaus,
Don Cherry,
Severed Heads,
The Cramps,
Lungfish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cal Tjader,
Jacob Miller,
The Sonics,
Infiniti,
FM Einheit,
EPMD,
Bill Near,
Electric Prunes,
The Happenings,
The Barracudas,
Barbara Tucker,
The Doors,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delta 5,
Pantytec,
Faraquet,
Pylon,
Scott Walker,
Arab on Radar,
Quantec,
Suburban Knight,
Moebius,
Soul II Soul,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Surgeon,
Rekid,
The Grass Roots,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eli Mardock,
Subhumans,
Goldenarms,
Lower 48,
the Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
Tim Buckley,
Prince Buster,
Ken Boothe,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.