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 South and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Supertramp to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator 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 marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Scratch Acid,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bad Manners,
Babytalk,
Yazoo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sam Rivers,
Boz Scaggs,
Tears for Fears,
The Birthday Party,
James White and The Blacks,
D'Angelo,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Remains,
The Alarm Clocks,
Faraquet,
Duran Duran,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Music Machine,
The Trojans,
David Axelrod,
Goldenarms,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pantaleimon,
Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Boredoms,
Fela Kuti,
The Monks,
Lalann,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jandek,
Zapp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Janne Schatter,
Sugar Minott,
Bang On A Can,
Barbara Tucker,
the Slits,
The Gun Club,
Joensuu 1685,
DJ Sneak,
Warsaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Colin Newman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Flag,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Newcleus,
Ponytail,
Inner City,
New Order,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Silicon Teens,
Smog,
Matthew Bourne,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.