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 Kiribati and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Freddie Wadling to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Jandek,
Jerry's Kids,
Urselle,
Morten Harket,
Brothers Johnson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Avey Tare,
The Standells,
Stetsasonic,
Severed Heads,
the Soft Cell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Divine Comedy,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy Collins,
Rakim,
The Gun Club,
Marine Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Marvin Gaye,
Swans,
Cymande,
Pantaleimon,
Intrusion,
Black Moon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Toni Rubio,
Amazonics,
Soul Sonic Force,
Letta Mbulu,
The Kinks,
The Evens,
X-101,
Audionom,
The Sound,
Yazoo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rotary Connection,
Cybotron,
Lower 48,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Blossom Toes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Brand Nubian,
the Slits,
The Pretty Things,
Man Parrish,
Aural Exciters,
Q and Not U,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Swans,
One Last Wish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roy Ayers,
Desert Stars,
June Days,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fire Engines,
Lucky Dragons,
Little Man,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.