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 Seychelles and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Holger Czukay 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tom Boy,
Nils Olav,
Blake Baxter,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Blues Magoos,
The Toasters,
EPMD,
Cybotron,
Metal Thangz,
The Fuzztones,
New Age Steppers,
Stetsasonic,
Neil Young,
Fluxion,
Roxette,
The Smoke,
Jeff Mills,
Man Parrish,
Symarip,
Quando Quango,
The Five Americans,
The Fugs,
Sam Rivers,
Liliput,
The Cramps,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Count Five,
Surgeon,
Bill Near,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cheater Slicks,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Wake,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gong,
Sparks,
Bobby Womack,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Khruangbin,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
UT,
Icehouse,
Idris Muhammad,
June of 44,
Archie Shepp,
The Skatalites,
Japan,
Bang On A Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Graham Central Station,
Cymande,
The Slits,
kango's stein massive,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Green,
Radiohead,
LL Cool J,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.