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 Syria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Robert Palmer 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 Barracudas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
U.S. Maple,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Selecter,
Loose Ends,
Saccharine Trust,
The Young Rascals,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pussy Galore,
The Misunderstood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Chris Corsano,
Bob Dylan,
The Fugs,
ABBA,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crooked Eye,
The Star Department,
Patti Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Hood,
Delta 5,
Scott Walker,
Judy Mowatt,
Radio Birdman,
Marine Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Dave Clark Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Near,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Byrd,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Tremeloes,
Angry Samoans,
The Mummies,
Kayak,
Fugazi,
Steve Hackett,
Jacob Miller,
Desert Stars,
Malaria!,
Blake Baxter,
Deakin,
The Associates,
Mad Mike,
The Litter,
Agent Orange,
Davy DMX,
Scratch Acid,
Fad Gadget,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ultimate Spinach,
The United States of America,
The Stooges,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Bourne,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.