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 Tunisia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mo-Dettes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
The Misunderstood,
Derrick May,
Easy Going,
Buzzcocks,
Organ,
Bad Manners,
The Busters,
The Divine Comedy,
Erasure,
Don Cherry,
Hoover,
T.S.O.L.,
The Smiths,
The Kinks,
Jeff Lynne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Byrd,
Joey Negro,
Lightning Bolt,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nico,
The Walker Brothers,
Moss Icon,
Underground Resistance,
Mad Mike,
Depeche Mode,
The Count Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Human League,
Graham Central Station,
The Five Americans,
Little Man,
The Fuzztones,
Scan 7,
The Cosmic Jokers,
One Last Wish,
David Axelrod,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Trumans Water,
Tears for Fears,
The New Christs,
Scratch Acid,
Crooked Eye,
H. Thieme,
E-Dancer,
The Offenders,
The Residents,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barbara Tucker,
Yazoo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Public Enemy,
Minutemen,
These Immortal Souls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Last Poets,
The Star Department,
The Associates,
Matthew Bourne,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.