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 Tonga and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Quando Quango to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Robert Wyatt,
Au Pairs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Shoche,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unwound,
John Holt,
Maurizio,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flash Fearless,
Lou Reed,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fatback Band,
The Doors,
Nils Olav,
Vainqueur,
cv313,
A Certain Ratio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jacob Miller,
Magma,
Robert Hood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eric Dolphy,
Cameo,
The Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Half Japanese,
The Kinks,
La Düsseldorf,
Wolf Eyes,
Niagra,
Index,
Aloha Tigers,
Lou Christie,
Anthony Braxton,
Urselle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Rapeman,
Brick,
Bootsy Collins,
Motorama,
Babytalk,
Subhumans,
U.S. Maple,
Can,
Cecil Taylor,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Masters at Work,
The United States of America,
Amazonics,
Technova,
Soft Machine,
E-Dancer,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.