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 Botswana and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 OOIOO to the punk 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Jandek,
Young Marble Giants,
Rekid,
Swell Maps,
Brass Construction,
Dark Day,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bootsy Collins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Toasters,
Chris & Cosey,
Throbbing Gristle,
Von Mondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kenny Larkin,
Siglo XX,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Judy Mowatt,
Quantec,
Magazine,
Scratch Acid,
Icehouse,
The Saints,
Rapeman,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Minnie Riperton,
Jawbox,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun Ra,
Maleditus Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Michelle Simonal,
The Searchers,
Soul II Soul,
Goldenarms,
Fela Kuti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mummies,
The Monks,
Lyres,
X-101,
Yaz,
The Litter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Q and Not U,
Can,
Flipper,
Bobby Sherman,
Junior Murvin,
Sister Nancy,
Roy Ayers,
Surgeon,
The Dave Clark Five,
Underground Resistance,
The Busters,
Silicon Teens,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Colin Newman,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.