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 New Zealand and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Quando Quango to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Invisible,
Alphaville,
The Beau Brummels,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Knickerbockers,
The Birthday Party,
U.S. Maple,
Amon Düül,
Oneida,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Unrelated Segments,
Tears for Fears,
Mandrill,
Gong,
The Selecter,
Cecil Taylor,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thee Headcoats,
Johnny Clarke,
Spandau Ballet,
The Neon Judgement,
Model 500,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Scott Walker,
Deepchord,
Interpol,
PIL,
48th St. Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wire,
Shuggie Otis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Quantec,
Peter and Kerry,
Underground Resistance,
Charles Mingus,
Neil Young,
Slave,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pere Ubu,
The Misunderstood,
The Fall,
The Tremeloes,
The Seeds,
Brothers Johnson,
The Victims,
The Monochrome Set,
the Normal,
The Real Kids,
Technova,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Five Americans,
The Velvet Underground,
Bauhaus,
Barrington Levy,
Arcadia,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.