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 the UAE and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 L. Decosne to the punk 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nik Kershaw,
Dark Day,
Yellowson,
Ultra Naté,
Joensuu 1685,
Pole,
Robert Hood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alton Ellis,
Lower 48,
Eve St. Jones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monochrome Set,
The Neon Judgement,
MC5,
The Sound,
Motorama,
Josef K,
Infiniti,
Sexual Harrassment,
Slick Rick,
Johnny Clarke,
Ten City,
John Lydon,
The Grass Roots,
D'Angelo,
Tears for Fears,
Nick Fraelich,
Isaac Hayes,
Pagans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Buzzcocks,
June Days,
Thee Headcoats,
Dawn Penn,
X-Ray Spex,
Rufus Thomas,
ABBA,
Hardrive,
Tommy Roe,
Aswad,
Khruangbin,
Deepchord,
Radio Birdman,
Scion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skaos,
Donald Byrd,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Modern Lovers,
The Electric Prunes,
Hasil Adkins,
Warsaw,
Soft Cell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quantec,
The Seeds,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.