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 Dominican Republic and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Index to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mr. Review,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Guru Guru,
Suburban Knight,
June of 44,
The Moleskins,
The Slackers,
The J.B.'s,
Scion,
Arab on Radar,
The Walker Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
Lucky Dragons,
ABBA,
Aaron Thompson,
Dual Sessions,
Altered Images,
Sun Ra,
F. McDonald,
Wasted Youth,
Metal Thangz,
Second Layer,
Derrick Morgan,
Blancmange,
Brothers Johnson,
Jawbox,
The Residents,
LL Cool J,
Underground Resistance,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scrapy,
the Sonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tubeway Army,
Joe Smooth,
Ohio Players,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Intrusion,
The Gories,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jacques Brel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
MDC,
Gang Starr,
the Swans,
Technova,
Avey Tare,
Grandmaster Flash,
Skriet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
Roger Hodgson,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.