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 Algeria and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Outsiders to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Joensuu 1685,
Carl Craig,
Liliput,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eurythmics,
B.T. Express,
Desert Stars,
Rod Modell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Susan Cadogan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare,
Lou Reed,
Ludus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kenny Larkin,
Amon Düül II,
The Sound,
Babytalk,
Talk Talk,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jeff Lynne,
Whodini,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Alton Ellis,
Con Funk Shun,
Icehouse,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lalo Schifrin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Patti Smith,
Kayak,
Television Personalities,
Pylon,
Accadde A,
Sun City Girls,
Underground Resistance,
The Selecter,
The Motions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barry Ungar,
Todd Rundgren,
Vainqueur,
Ronnie Foster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Juan Atkins,
Newcleus,
Barbara Tucker,
Freddie Wadling,
Shoche,
Marine Girls,
Fugazi,
Television,
Jacques Brel,
Visage,
Buzzcocks,
The Human League,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.