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 Cuba and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Nation of Ulysses to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Skriet,
Connie Case,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Surgeon,
Siglo XX,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fluxion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Chris & Cosey,
Brothers Johnson,
Slick Rick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fall,
The Fire Engines,
Delon & Dalcan,
Moebius,
The Golliwogs,
Porter Ricks,
MDC,
Crooked Eye,
H. Thieme,
Inner City,
John Holt,
Ituana,
cv313,
Boz Scaggs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sexual Harrassment,
Zero Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
T.S.O.L.,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pussy Galore,
Dennis Brown,
The Monochrome Set,
Unrelated Segments,
Fugazi,
Don Cherry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Germs,
Whodini,
Section 25,
Accadde A,
David Bowie,
Harry Pussy,
Glenn Branca,
Curtis Mayfield,
PIL,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Simply Red,
Radio Birdman,
Deakin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Steve Hackett,
Echospace,
Nico,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lower 48,
Eli Mardock,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.