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 Montenegro and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 Mr. Review to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
The Leaves,
Outsiders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Walker Brothers,
The Knickerbockers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rapeman,
John Cale,
Fat Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
ABBA,
Neu!,
Juan Atkins,
Jerry's Kids,
Boz Scaggs,
Can,
Eric Copeland,
Bluetip,
Pole,
Sparks,
Alison Limerick,
Warsaw,
cv313,
Sun City Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Standells,
The Offenders,
Rites of Spring,
ABC,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Last Poets,
The Alarm Clocks,
Charles Mingus,
Darondo,
The Skatalites,
LL Cool J,
The Litter,
The Seeds,
Agitation Free,
T. Rex,
Man Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
Jeff Mills,
Oblivians,
The Victims,
Schoolly D,
The Move,
Drexciya,
Crooked Eye,
Sight & Sound,
Althea and Donna,
The Grass Roots,
Glenn Branca,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Martian,
Shuggie Otis,
Byron Stingily,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.