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 Yemen and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ 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 China Crisis to the crunk 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Mars,
Minnie Riperton,
Robert Hood,
The Durutti Column,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cymande,
Robert Wyatt,
X-Ray Spex,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Subhumans,
Little Man,
The Angels of Light,
Goldenarms,
The Birthday Party,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Happenings,
Sister Nancy,
Young Marble Giants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mojo Men,
Moby Grape,
Agent Orange,
Lou Christie,
The Names,
Sun Ra,
Vainqueur,
K-Klass,
ABC,
U.S. Maple,
Letta Mbulu,
48th St. Collective,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mantronix,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Görl,
Todd Terry,
CMW,
The Monks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quando Quango,
Fugazi,
Khruangbin,
Youth Brigade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
James White and The Blacks,
Silicon Teens,
Monolake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Normal,
The Evens,
Main Source,
Kurtis Blow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
One Last Wish,
Stetsasonic,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smiths,
Eddi Front,
Scratch Acid,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.