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 St Lucia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Donald Fagen 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 Visage to the crunk 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Sex Pistols,
Jacob Miller,
Echospace,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Alphaville,
Steve Hackett,
PIL,
Schoolly D,
Grey Daturas,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Gun Club,
Fat Boys,
Howard Jones,
Cheater Slicks,
Cymande,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Procol Harum,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
Jeff Mills,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yellowson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Minnie Riperton,
Index,
Carl Craig,
FM Einheit,
Minutemen,
Sister Nancy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pole,
Tropical Tobacco,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker,
Terry Callier,
Agent Orange,
Wally Richardson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Iggy Pop,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Y Pants,
Jandek,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Godley & Creme,
Duran Duran,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gories,
John Foxx,
Blake Baxter,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
The Saints,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.