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 Grenada and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 E-Dancer to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Cameo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry's Kids,
Toni Rubio,
Visage,
The Slits,
The Red Krayola,
Aural Exciters,
The Neon Judgement,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Connie Case,
Jawbox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yazoo,
Hashim,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dark Day,
Zero Boys,
Skaos,
Sällskapet,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül II,
Talk Talk,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Fania All-Stars,
World's Most,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Real Kids,
Alice Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
The Index,
Fugazi,
Accadde A,
Zapp,
Henry Cow,
Spandau Ballet,
Severed Heads,
The Residents,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hot Snakes,
Smog,
Albert Ayler,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sixth Finger,
Television Personalities,
David Bowie,
Goldenarms,
Buzzcocks,
Bang On A Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
Funky Four + One,
Robert Hood,
Rufus Thomas,
Laurel Aitken,
Liliput,
Terrestrial Tones,
Interpol,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.