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 Netherlands and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Cell to the jazz 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grauzone,
Moss Icon,
Circle Jerks,
Joe Finger,
Yaz,
JFA,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tubeway Army,
Public Enemy,
The Happenings,
New York Dolls,
John Lydon,
The Vogues,
Roxette,
Fluxion,
The Five Americans,
Zapp,
Infiniti,
Nils Olav,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Con Funk Shun,
Harmonia,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Moon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gichy Dan,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Clarke,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Japan,
DJ Sneak,
Motorama,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Kinks,
Lakeside,
Inner City,
The Searchers,
Gang of Four,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Gang Dance,
Banda Bassotti,
Matthew Bourne,
Matthew Halsall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moebius,
Loose Ends,
Alice Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Wells,
Sparks,
Excepter,
Hasil Adkins,
Marine Girls,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Freddie Wadling,
Qualms,
MDC,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.