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 Eritrea and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Joe Finger to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Sister Nancy,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultra Naté,
Flash Fearless,
Cheater Slicks,
Suicide,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Massinfluence,
Monolake,
Skaos,
Pylon,
Eric Copeland,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Section 25,
The Golliwogs,
Rapeman,
Motorama,
Steve Hackett,
Porter Ricks,
Lakeside,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gerry Rafferty,
Anakelly,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monochrome Set,
Bronski Beat,
Fugazi,
Funkadelic,
Alton Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
Scientists,
The Fugs,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Saints,
MDC,
Echospace,
The Tremeloes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
The Grass Roots,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Starr,
Scrapy,
World's Most,
The Motions,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun City Girls,
Mad Mike,
Eurythmics,
Sparks,
AZ,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marmalade,
Tom Boy,
Deadbeat,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.