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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar 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 The Fuzztones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mantronix,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sound Behaviour,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ronan,
Pussy Galore,
Circle Jerks,
The J.B.'s,
Josef K,
Rotary Connection,
The Mojo Men,
Cal Tjader,
The Five Americans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
T.S.O.L.,
The Neon Judgement,
Wally Richardson,
Rakim,
Terry Callier,
Boogie Down Productions,
Altered Images,
John Lydon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeff Mills,
The Doobie Brothers,
Laurel Aitken,
Franke,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fuzztones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alphaville,
Cluster,
Whodini,
The Monks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Howard Jones,
The Gladiators,
Marvin Gaye,
Bob Dylan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Happenings,
The Doors,
the Swans,
Lakeside,
The Tremeloes,
Boredoms,
Drive Like Jehu,
Deepchord,
John Cale,
China Crisis,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Donald Byrd,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.