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 Fiji and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
The Beau Brummels,
Aloha Tigers,
Gabor Szabo,
The Dirtbombs,
Mandrill,
Royal Trux,
Roxette,
B.T. Express,
John Coltrane,
The Sonics,
Circle Jerks,
Japan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Names,
Wolf Eyes,
kango's stein massive,
Aswad,
Andrew Hill,
Minutemen,
The Angels of Light,
Groovy Waters,
Jeff Mills,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Organ,
Television Personalities,
Roy Ayers,
The Kinks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brand Nubian,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lower 48,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sex Pistols,
EPMD,
The Slits,
Warren Ellis,
Bauhaus,
Con Funk Shun,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rod Modell,
Aural Exciters,
The Stooges,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bush Tetras,
Gang of Four,
Ponytail,
Young Marble Giants,
Marc Almond,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Wake,
Arthur Verocai,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Christie,
Iggy Pop,
The Moleskins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Malaria!,
The Fugs,
Make Up,
One Last Wish,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.