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 South Sudan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 Soft Cell to the rap 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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
The Gun Club,
Soulsonic Force,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Slits,
Peter & Gordon,
Wasted Youth,
Albert Ayler,
cv313,
Jacob Miller,
Ornette Coleman,
Heaven 17,
The Pretty Things,
AZ,
Pussy Galore,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bill Wells,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Pus,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Slits,
Section 25,
Derrick May,
Buzzcocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Five Americans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Loose Ends,
Pierre Henry,
Eden Ahbez,
Vainqueur,
Stetsasonic,
Joe Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
Suburban Knight,
The Smoke,
June Days,
Harry Pussy,
Little Man,
Masters at Work,
Lungfish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Man Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Green,
a-ha,
Au Pairs,
Duran Duran,
The Martian,
D'Angelo,
Todd Rundgren,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.