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 Iceland and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bronski Beat to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Minnie Riperton,
the Germs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Model 500,
Magma,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Alton Ellis,
Chris Corsano,
The Blues Magoos,
The Techniques,
Bill Wells,
Pierre Henry,
10cc,
Little Man,
Pantaleimon,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
Soft Machine,
Jacques Brel,
Dave Gahan,
Jawbox,
B.T. Express,
Fatback Band,
ABC,
The Durutti Column,
Mars,
The Selecter,
Heaven 17,
Pere Ubu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vainqueur,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
a-ha,
The Searchers,
Pylon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Severed Heads,
Thee Headcoats,
Maleditus Sound,
The Wake,
Saccharine Trust,
The Moleskins,
Lungfish,
The Tremeloes,
Donald Byrd,
Quadrant,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dawn Penn,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yazoo,
Agent Orange,
Minny Pops,
Max Romeo,
David McCallum,
Monolake,
Sonic Youth,
Leonard Cohen,
Rapeman,
Das Ding,
Kayak,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.