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 St Lucia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Robert Palmer 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 Flash Fearless to the disco 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang On A Can,
Fela Kuti,
Bill Near,
The Cure,
The Gap Band,
Procol Harum,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Last Poets,
Tom Boy,
Mission of Burma,
OOIOO,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Pus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rotary Connection,
X-102,
New York Dolls,
Marvin Gaye,
Animal Collective,
The Human League,
Roy Ayers,
Tears for Fears,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Reagan Youth,
The Slackers,
Swans,
Rod Modell,
The Skatalites,
X-101,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Boz Scaggs,
Pole,
Moby Grape,
Kurtis Blow,
The Kinks,
The Sound,
Quando Quango,
the Germs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lucky Dragons,
Panda Bear,
Juan Atkins,
Slave,
R.M.O.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radiohead,
Mad Mike,
Grauzone,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hardrive,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.