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 Cyprus and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The New Christs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Archie Shepp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wolf Eyes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Gories,
Black Sheep,
Laurel Aitken,
Lucky Dragons,
Adolescents,
The Smiths,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joey Negro,
The Electric Prunes,
In Retrospect,
Pussy Galore,
Heaven 17,
Smog,
Kool Moe Dee,
Piero Umiliani,
Stiv Bators,
Bootsy Collins,
48th St. Collective,
Camberwell Now,
Fear,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aural Exciters,
Bush Tetras,
Clear Light,
Juan Atkins,
James White and The Blacks,
Bronski Beat,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Görl,
The Invisible,
Harry Pussy,
Quando Quango,
Ultravox,
Joensuu 1685,
Section 25,
Nico,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
LL Cool J,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joy Division,
Shuggie Otis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alphaville,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Television,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.