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 Nauru and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
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 arpeggiator 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 Infiniti to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Boredoms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Steve Hackett,
Brand Nubian,
Trumans Water,
June Days,
The New Christs,
Panda Bear,
Chrome,
Main Source,
The Index,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Idris Muhammad,
Moss Icon,
Television Personalities,
Grauzone,
Glambeats Corp.,
Malaria!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Babytalk,
Minutemen,
Leonard Cohen,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Fortunes,
In Retrospect,
The Remains,
Wire,
The J.B.'s,
Rosa Yemen,
Hot Snakes,
Arcadia,
Neil Young,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amon Düül,
The Modern Lovers,
Terry Callier,
John Coltrane,
The Slits,
Symarip,
The Fall,
Bobby Byrd,
La Düsseldorf,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Womack,
The Fugs,
Archie Shepp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Darondo,
China Crisis,
Pussy Galore,
Aaron Thompson,
Interpol,
Robert Görl,
Thee Headcoats,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Warsaw,
JFA,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.