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 Micronesia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Loose Ends to the grunge 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Eve St. Jones,
Rekid,
cv313,
Colin Newman,
the Soft Cell,
The Vogues,
Don Cherry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tubeway Army,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marmalade,
David McCallum,
Procol Harum,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ronan,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
Japan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Clear Light,
Maurizio,
The Smiths,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hasil Adkins,
Sex Pistols,
Man Parrish,
The Blues Magoos,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Sheep,
Vainqueur,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oblivians,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Agent Orange,
The Smoke,
Bang On A Can,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lungfish,
Depeche Mode,
Johnny Osbourne,
Saccharine Trust,
Ludus,
Eden Ahbez,
Mars,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
Ronnie Foster,
K-Klass,
Von Mondo,
The Residents,
Althea and Donna,
Graham Central Station,
Tommy Roe,
Freddie Wadling,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.