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 China and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator 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 Inner City to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
The Music Machine,
Public Enemy,
The Cure,
Pulsallama,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magma,
Symarip,
Pagans,
Derrick May,
Thee Headcoats,
Simply Red,
Procol Harum,
Visage,
The Remains,
Bang On A Can,
Black Bananas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sonics,
Guru Guru,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Kinks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Max Romeo,
New Age Steppers,
The Trojans,
Infiniti,
Al Stewart,
Gang Green,
Inner City,
Pantaleimon,
Fugazi,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Basic Channel,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flash Fearless,
Rosa Yemen,
The Velvet Underground,
The Dave Clark Five,
Toni Rubio,
Kevin Saunderson,
New York Dolls,
Pylon,
John Foxx,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Motions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bronski Beat,
Barbara Tucker,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Wake,
X-102,
Matthew Halsall,
Loose Ends,
Maleditus Sound,
Nirvana,
Darondo,
Whodini,
Swans,
JFA,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Selecter,
Eurythmics,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.