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 Marshall Islands and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grime 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
China Crisis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Remains,
The Slits,
X-Ray Spex,
Arcadia,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Royal Trux,
New Age Steppers,
Scratch Acid,
Dark Day,
Brick,
Deadbeat,
ABBA,
Brass Construction,
Monks,
Sun Ra,
The Wake,
Siglo XX,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Guru Guru,
Oneida,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Interpol,
Zero Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Davy DMX,
Shoche,
Pantytec,
Chrome,
Funkadelic,
Suicide,
Andrew Hill,
UT,
David McCallum,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eden Ahbez,
Spoonie Gee,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Leaves,
Pylon,
The Techniques,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eurythmics,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobby Womack,
Simply Red,
Youth Brigade,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crispian St. Peters,
CMW,
The Black Dice,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fortunes,
Harry Pussy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Arthur Verocai,
Surgeon,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.