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 El Salvador and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Buckinghams to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Amazonics,
Cymande,
Gang of Four,
The Selecter,
Livin' Joy,
Japan,
Kaleidoscope,
Piero Umiliani,
Depeche Mode,
Erasure,
Pere Ubu,
Scion,
Suicide,
The Trojans,
The Fall,
Jeff Lynne,
Darondo,
Outsiders,
L. Decosne,
The Toasters,
Loose Ends,
Kerrie Biddell,
Q and Not U,
Suburban Knight,
Fugazi,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
John Coltrane,
The Searchers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Guru Guru,
Magazine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Subhumans,
John Holt,
Television,
The Human League,
Judy Mowatt,
Camberwell Now,
Minutemen,
Massinfluence,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barry Ungar,
The Gap Band,
The Skatalites,
Quando Quango,
David Bowie,
Junior Murvin,
Black Moon,
Motorama,
Average White Band,
Circle Jerks,
The Walker Brothers,
Inner City,
CMW,
Mission of Burma,
Janne Schatter,
Wings,
Bauhaus,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.