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 Malta and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rufus Thomas to the grime 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alphaville,
Sixth Finger,
T. Rex,
Wire,
Sound Behaviour,
The Selecter,
Eurythmics,
The Doors,
Tom Boy,
Ralphi Rosario,
La Düsseldorf,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oneida,
Prince Buster,
Guru Guru,
Hasil Adkins,
The Durutti Column,
Ten City,
Mandrill,
The Blackbyrds,
Sällskapet,
Aswad,
Gichy Dan,
Leonard Cohen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Darondo,
Deadbeat,
The Moody Blues,
Alton Ellis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Faraquet,
Deepchord,
Bronski Beat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed,
Mary Jane Girls,
Delta 5,
Amazonics,
Von Mondo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joyce Sims,
Alison Limerick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ronnie Foster,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sun Ra,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Slits,
Robert Görl,
Boredoms,
Eve St. Jones,
Steve Hackett,
Ornette Coleman,
The Evens,
Ossler,
Desert Stars,
Black Bananas,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.