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 Micronesia and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Howard Jones to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Move,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boz Scaggs,
Stetsasonic,
Roger Hodgson,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
EPMD,
Soft Cell,
James White and The Blacks,
Donny Hathaway,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skaos,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Faust,
Pharoah Sanders,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Magma,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Sexual Harrassment,
R.M.O.,
Eric Copeland,
Slave,
Al Stewart,
Soft Machine,
Metal Thangz,
Mars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ponytail,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Selecter,
Inner City,
Sandy B,
Desert Stars,
Urselle,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eddi Front,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Mills,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Television,
Funky Four + One,
Suicide,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kaleidoscope,
Agent Orange,
Talk Talk,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
X-Ray Spex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cymande,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeff Lynne,
The Trojans,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.