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 Bhutan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Ultra Naté 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
T.S.O.L.,
UT,
CMW,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Graham Central Station,
The Doors,
Roger Hodgson,
New Age Steppers,
Marmalade,
Albert Ayler,
H. Thieme,
David McCallum,
Main Source,
Marcia Griffiths,
Depeche Mode,
Excepter,
Symarip,
Archie Shepp,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monks,
The Slits,
Joy Division,
Lou Christie,
Smog,
Wally Richardson,
Harmonia,
Scientists,
World's Most,
Unwound,
Mandrill,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Clarke,
Nils Olav,
Animal Collective,
Josef K,
Desert Stars,
The Kinks,
Eric Dolphy,
Television,
Ice-T,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
T. Rex,
Jeff Lynne,
Rites of Spring,
Stetsasonic,
The Searchers,
Peter & Gordon,
X-101,
John Lydon,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed,
Minutemen,
Average White Band,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cramps,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.