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 Marshall Islands and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Cymande to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Ultravox,
Qualms,
Main Source,
The Real Kids,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Raincoats,
Chris Corsano,
The Mojo Men,
Goldenarms,
Marcia Griffiths,
Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roxette,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Modern Lovers,
Eden Ahbez,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Moody Blues,
Outsiders,
Minutemen,
The Walker Brothers,
Ossler,
Erykah Badu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
KRS-One,
Kaleidoscope,
Barbara Tucker,
Blake Baxter,
Quantec,
Hardrive,
Sun City Girls,
Scan 7,
Lungfish,
Eve St. Jones,
OOIOO,
Q65,
Y Pants,
Massinfluence,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Das Ding,
Barrington Levy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pulsallama,
Swell Maps,
Sixth Finger,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Blackbyrds,
Reuben Wilson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
MDC,
Pharoah Sanders,
Man Eating Sloth,
Derrick Morgan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Zero Boys,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.