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 Grenada and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Oneida to the punk 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
X-102,
Negative Approach,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cowsills,
The Martian,
Camberwell Now,
Marine Girls,
June Days,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scion,
Q and Not U,
Carl Craig,
Ultravox,
Marshall Jefferson,
Suburban Knight,
Eric Dolphy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sandy B,
Scrapy,
Mars,
Brick,
Section 25,
ABC,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeff Lynne,
Blake Baxter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stiv Bators,
Althea and Donna,
Cecil Taylor,
Bauhaus,
The Invisible,
The Techniques,
Yaz,
The Searchers,
Spandau Ballet,
the Germs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hasil Adkins,
Isaac Hayes,
New Order,
Bush Tetras,
Sound Behaviour,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
Cameo,
Todd Rundgren,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fuzztones,
Erykah Badu,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kurtis Blow,
Chris Corsano,
Fugazi,
Howard Jones,
Agent Orange,
Donald Byrd,
Marmalade,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.