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 Slovakia and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eric B and Rakim to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord 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 Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Brand Nubian,
Skaos,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scan 7,
Sandy B,
the Bar-Kays,
Lalo Schifrin,
Y Pants,
Eric Copeland,
Half Japanese,
Marvin Gaye,
Scratch Acid,
Connie Case,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ludus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobby Sherman,
Drexciya,
Bronski Beat,
Peter and Kerry,
Bauhaus,
Mars,
Maurizio,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Holt,
Kaleidoscope,
Aaron Thompson,
Terry Callier,
Quantec,
Tim Buckley,
OOIOO,
The Monochrome Set,
Danielle Patucci,
Yaz,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rakim,
Alphaville,
Drive Like Jehu,
Maleditus Sound,
LL Cool J,
The Offenders,
David Bowie,
Tres Demented,
Desert Stars,
Loose Ends,
June Days,
Sun Ra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Symarip,
Pulsallama,
Soul Sonic Force,
Radio Birdman,
The Martian,
The Divine Comedy,
X-Ray Spex,
Bush Tetras,
The Stooges,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.