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 Macedonia and from Sao Paulo.
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 Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wasted Youth to the rap 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Buzzcocks,
The Techniques,
Mandrill,
Saccharine Trust,
Hoover,
The Gladiators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yaz,
The Grass Roots,
Swell Maps,
Rakim,
Letta Mbulu,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Mummies,
Underground Resistance,
Aural Exciters,
Metal Thangz,
The Angels of Light,
World's Most,
Banda Bassotti,
DNA,
Bauhaus,
Skriet,
Spandau Ballet,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lebanon Hanover,
Idris Muhammad,
Sandy B,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Steve Hackett,
The Mojo Men,
Patti Smith,
Jerry's Kids,
Roy Ayers,
Eden Ahbez,
Anakelly,
Lou Christie,
Aswad,
Maurizio,
Minutemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Country Teasers,
The American Breed,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Bananas,
The Fuzztones,
Davy DMX,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Unwound,
Danielle Patucci,
This Heat,
The Last Poets,
Jacques Brel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ronnie Foster,
Sex Pistols,
Sly & The Family Stone,
10cc,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.