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 Egypt and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pere Ubu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang On A Can,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
10cc,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fatback Band,
Scion,
Royal Trux,
Black Sheep,
Yazoo,
Radio Birdman,
Ponytail,
Rapeman,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Doors,
Lindisfarne,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Unrelated Segments,
Alice Coltrane,
Suburban Knight,
The Standells,
FM Einheit,
Minutemen,
Sugar Minott,
Sparks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gories,
Newcleus,
The Human League,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Real Kids,
The Happenings,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camberwell Now,
Harry Pussy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Underground Resistance,
A Certain Ratio,
Schoolly D,
World's Most,
Flash Fearless,
Faraquet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pagans,
K-Klass,
The Fugs,
Robert Wyatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Japan,
Lakeside,
Lucky Dragons,
Boredoms,
Little Man,
Ituana,
Deepchord,
Von Mondo,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.