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 Pakistan and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Walker Brothers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Idris Muhammad,
Wasted Youth,
The Fire Engines,
Deakin,
Aloha Tigers,
The Count Five,
Bluetip,
Rufus Thomas,
Quando Quango,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Hill,
The American Breed,
Bizarre Inc.,
Charles Mingus,
a-ha,
Howard Jones,
The Gladiators,
Steve Hackett,
La Düsseldorf,
The Seeds,
Gichy Dan,
Monks,
Albert Ayler,
Tres Demented,
Moss Icon,
The Barracudas,
June Days,
Todd Terry,
The Busters,
Zero Boys,
Nas,
8 Eyed Spy,
H. Thieme,
CMW,
The Dead C,
Stiv Bators,
AZ,
Tommy Roe,
The Martian,
The Saints,
Theoretical Girls,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
Maurizio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Silicon Teens,
Terry Callier,
The Angels of Light,
Jawbox,
The Motions,
Sister Nancy,
The Wake,
The Index,
Avey Tare,
Isaac Hayes,
Pere Ubu,
Newcleus,
The Durutti Column,
Roxette,
The Trojans,
Matthew Bourne,
ABC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.