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 Madagascar and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Cecil Taylor 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Real Kids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Intrusion,
Bang On A Can,
Kerri Chandler,
Wally Richardson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Patti Smith,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Johnny Clarke,
Zapp,
Jacob Miller,
Magazine,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marine Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Von Mondo,
Minor Threat,
Index,
Popol Vuh,
Harry Pussy,
Joensuu 1685,
Drexciya,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Talk Talk,
Young Marble Giants,
Tomorrow,
Faraquet,
Fat Boys,
Lightning Bolt,
The Grass Roots,
Goldenarms,
Monks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chrome,
Lyres,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roxette,
Joy Division,
Pylon,
Fela Kuti,
Q and Not U,
Guru Guru,
Bush Tetras,
Sister Nancy,
The Names,
Nils Olav,
Alison Limerick,
Angry Samoans,
The Associates,
Duran Duran,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mantronix,
kango's stein massive,
Ultimate Spinach,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.