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 Barbados and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
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 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 Robert Palmer 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 Sex Pistols to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
EPMD,
World's Most,
The Gories,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shoche,
Graham Central Station,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roxy Music,
Mandrill,
The Doobie Brothers,
Magazine,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cecil Taylor,
Vainqueur,
Angry Samoans,
Sixth Finger,
Moebius,
Public Enemy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James White and The Blacks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minny Pops,
Pylon,
Essential Logic,
Schoolly D,
These Immortal Souls,
The Music Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Main Source,
The Leaves,
Babytalk,
One Last Wish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Durutti Column,
the Sonics,
Josef K,
Hot Snakes,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Lakeside,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dawn Penn,
F. McDonald,
Chrome,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Tremeloes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Cluster,
Lightning Bolt,
Dennis Brown,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lindisfarne,
Whodini,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Clarke,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.