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 Philippines and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rap 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Index,
Blake Baxter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang of Four,
Lower 48,
Junior Murvin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harry Pussy,
Amon Düül,
Lyres,
Con Funk Shun,
Cecil Taylor,
The Standells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yusef Lateef,
Q and Not U,
Gang Green,
Youth Brigade,
Zapp,
Bad Manners,
Peter & Gordon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ten City,
Roger Hodgson,
Skriet,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Angels of Light,
Fatback Band,
Glenn Branca,
This Heat,
The Star Department,
Monks,
Joy Division,
Stereo Dub,
The Durutti Column,
Ohio Players,
Amazonics,
Grauzone,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Barracudas,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Pop Group,
These Immortal Souls,
Kaleidoscope,
Cheater Slicks,
June Days,
The Count Five,
Excepter,
Ronan,
Severed Heads,
Symarip,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Reed,
Lungfish,
Half Japanese,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camberwell Now,
Ken Boothe,
Grey Daturas,
Brand Nubian,
The Raincoats,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.