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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rock 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Barbara Tucker,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Echospace,
Mo-Dettes,
Whodini,
DNA,
The Human League,
Kayak,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stiv Bators,
EPMD,
Marvin Gaye,
Eden Ahbez,
Radiopuhelimet,
Duran Duran,
Blancmange,
LL Cool J,
Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marshall Jefferson,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Bananas,
Glenn Branca,
Mantronix,
Frankie Knuckles,
Michelle Simonal,
a-ha,
Masters at Work,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
The Evens,
Camouflage,
Royal Trux,
Cecil Taylor,
Pere Ubu,
Ultravox,
Ultra Naté,
Marcia Griffiths,
Television,
Cal Tjader,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dead C,
Youth Brigade,
The Vogues,
Oblivians,
The Toasters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Monolake,
Hasil Adkins,
Radiohead,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Little Man,
The Associates,
The Mojo Men,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.