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 Italy and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer 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 Model 500 to the jazz 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Names,
Nik Kershaw,
the Sonics,
10cc,
Radiohead,
The Stooges,
Reuben Wilson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grauzone,
The Cramps,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Toasters,
The Offenders,
Los Fastidios,
Trumans Water,
Andrew Hill,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oblivians,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Blossom Toes,
Anthony Braxton,
Slick Rick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Public Enemy,
Jeff Lynne,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Misunderstood,
Japan,
Bad Manners,
Mo-Dettes,
Terry Callier,
The J.B.'s,
The Fugs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fear,
The Velvet Underground,
Royal Trux,
Tears for Fears,
Yellowson,
The Last Poets,
Sparks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nico,
Half Japanese,
Deakin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Association,
Dennis Brown,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gong,
China Crisis,
Avey Tare,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The New Christs,
Don Cherry,
Deadbeat,
Oneida,
E-Dancer,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.