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 Australia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kaleidoscope to the grime 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Parry Music,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Durutti Column,
The Names,
John Lydon,
Cluster,
Hashim,
Kas Product,
Chrome,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Adolescents,
Black Pus,
Judy Mowatt,
The Barracudas,
Aaron Thompson,
Tim Buckley,
Pere Ubu,
Quantec,
Idris Muhammad,
The Wake,
New Order,
Rufus Thomas,
The Beau Brummels,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Donny Hathaway,
The Red Krayola,
AZ,
Henry Cow,
Easy Going,
Archie Shepp,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Byrd,
Skaos,
Freddie Wadling,
The Slackers,
Con Funk Shun,
New York Dolls,
The Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Jandek,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quadrant,
Minor Threat,
Minutemen,
Agent Orange,
Interpol,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Niagra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.