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 Costa Rica and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the electroclash 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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
U.S. Maple,
The Doors,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barbara Tucker,
Spoonie Gee,
Newcleus,
Donny Hathaway,
The Black Dice,
Barry Ungar,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rapeman,
Donald Byrd,
The Human League,
The Knickerbockers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Simply Red,
Mo-Dettes,
Harmonia,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Sonics,
Magma,
Excepter,
Easy Going,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Niagra,
Vainqueur,
Marmalade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Second Layer,
Erykah Badu,
Rekid,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Chris & Cosey,
Gabor Szabo,
Cymande,
Deadbeat,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Victims,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Residents,
A Certain Ratio,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soul Sonic Force,
Boredoms,
Lucky Dragons,
Average White Band,
Wasted Youth,
Ten City,
the Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
The Neon Judgement,
Lightning Bolt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
F. McDonald,
Rotary Connection,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.