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 Bahamas and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Ice-T to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Divine Comedy,
Model 500,
The Invisible,
The Five Americans,
The Residents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Radio Birdman,
Monks,
Pagans,
Japan,
Radiohead,
David Bowie,
Silicon Teens,
Charles Mingus,
Suburban Knight,
The Pretty Things,
Ronnie Foster,
Saccharine Trust,
Dawn Penn,
Crash Course in Science,
The New Christs,
Excepter,
Neu!,
Bill Wells,
Lungfish,
Ken Boothe,
Piero Umiliani,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bang On A Can,
Trumans Water,
Minnie Riperton,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Alarm Clocks,
a-ha,
Bill Near,
Toni Rubio,
Lower 48,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Porter Ricks,
The Litter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gong,
Young Marble Giants,
The Slits,
Laurel Aitken,
The Stooges,
The Raincoats,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Faust,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Pus,
Althea and Donna,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joe Smooth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Camouflage,
Black Moon,
Eve St. Jones,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.