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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Anakelly,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
the Association,
Albert Ayler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soulsonic Force,
June of 44,
The Walker Brothers,
Magazine,
E-Dancer,
Harmonia,
Steve Hackett,
Youth Brigade,
Skriet,
Judy Mowatt,
Agent Orange,
Au Pairs,
Nico,
Sarah Menescal,
Lindisfarne,
Soul II Soul,
Procol Harum,
Zero Boys,
Delta 5,
Sam Rivers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Monolake,
Lungfish,
MDC,
Reuben Wilson,
a-ha,
Pierre Henry,
Gang of Four,
Prince Buster,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flash Fearless,
Loose Ends,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scratch Acid,
Second Layer,
Depeche Mode,
Radiohead,
Scrapy,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Motorama,
Ultra Naté,
Maleditus Sound,
Dead Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Roger Hodgson,
The Index,
The Motions,
Darondo,
the Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.