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 Albania 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the grunge 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Deakin,
D'Angelo,
Neu!,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Saints,
Boogie Down Productions,
Babytalk,
Warsaw,
The Searchers,
Ice-T,
Essential Logic,
The Fall,
Malaria!,
The Trojans,
Letta Mbulu,
Lightning Bolt,
Mission of Burma,
The Slackers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sixth Finger,
Gang of Four,
Jandek,
Visage,
June Days,
the Soft Cell,
Monks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sugar Minott,
Fluxion,
Surgeon,
Marmalade,
Bang On A Can,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Neon Judgement,
Toni Rubio,
EPMD,
A Certain Ratio,
Cymande,
Harmonia,
Marine Girls,
The Misunderstood,
The Mummies,
Symarip,
ABC,
Pantytec,
the Human League,
Banda Bassotti,
Joyce Sims,
the Swans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rekid,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Smiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crash Course in Science,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Human League,
Byron Stingily,
Arab on Radar,
Warren Ellis,
Bill Near,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.