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 Nicaragua and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Donald Fagen 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 Suburban Knight to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Wire,
Altered Images,
Mars,
Agent Orange,
Jawbox,
Byron Stingily,
Vainqueur,
The Zeros,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Hot Snakes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Al Stewart,
the Sonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Nik Kershaw,
Interpol,
Sugar Minott,
The Stooges,
Mark Hollis,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Happenings,
Donny Hathaway,
Index,
Bluetip,
The Gories,
Skaos,
Magazine,
T. Rex,
Motorama,
The Red Krayola,
cv313,
Deadbeat,
Bobbi Humphrey,
KRS-One,
Absolute Body Control,
Lee Hazlewood,
Erykah Badu,
Neu!,
The Electric Prunes,
Boz Scaggs,
Nils Olav,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Fire Engines,
Sight & Sound,
Von Mondo,
Anthony Braxton,
Rites of Spring,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bizarre Inc.,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Angels of Light,
Henry Cow,
Darondo,
Zapp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crash Course in Science,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.