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 Syria and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Drexciya,
Massinfluence,
Roxy Music,
Traffic Nightmare,
Saccharine Trust,
Donald Byrd,
Minny Pops,
Albert Ayler,
Zero Boys,
Babytalk,
Mo-Dettes,
Bluetip,
Electric Light Orchestra,
cv313,
Average White Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lindisfarne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Happenings,
The Slackers,
The New Christs,
The Evens,
The Birthday Party,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Magma,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Toasters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jerry's Kids,
Pole,
X-101,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Camouflage,
Judy Mowatt,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gun Club,
Bizarre Inc.,
Byron Stingily,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lalann,
Pylon,
Sonic Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantytec,
Absolute Body Control,
Ponytail,
Man Parrish,
Connie Case,
The Five Americans,
Ronan,
Sonny Sharrock,
New Order,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.