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 Pakistan and from Salvador.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis 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?
Masters at Work,
Swans,
Sugar Minott,
Lungfish,
Janne Schatter,
Stiv Bators,
OOIOO,
Minnie Riperton,
Crash Course in Science,
Tomorrow,
The Dirtbombs,
Niagra,
Sun City Girls,
Morten Harket,
Stereo Dub,
Aloha Tigers,
Youth Brigade,
Country Teasers,
MDC,
David Bowie,
Aswad,
Black Pus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Franke,
The Evens,
Radiopuhelimet,
Theoretical Girls,
the Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
Maurizio,
Anthony Braxton,
Grauzone,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David Axelrod,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blake Baxter,
DNA,
A Certain Ratio,
Little Man,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Popol Vuh,
Mo-Dettes,
The Toasters,
Prince Buster,
Organ,
The Five Americans,
Joy Division,
Crime,
Nick Fraelich,
Nirvana,
Nik Kershaw,
Pussy Galore,
UT,
Scientists,
Spoonie Gee,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tears for Fears,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Lynne,
Slick Rick,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.