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 Cape Verde and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Spandau Ballet to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Howard Jones,
Ponytail,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Amon Düül,
Guru Guru,
Pantaleimon,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Wyatt,
Trumans Water,
Hoover,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Smiths,
Suburban Knight,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gun Club,
Brothers Johnson,
Michelle Simonal,
The Move,
Radiohead,
Steve Hackett,
Moebius,
Kool Moe Dee,
T.S.O.L.,
Electric Prunes,
The Blues Magoos,
the Association,
Shoche,
Dead Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Wolf Eyes,
The Selecter,
Heaven 17,
Pulsallama,
Severed Heads,
Arthur Verocai,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soulsonic Force,
Chrome,
Warsaw,
the Human League,
Boz Scaggs,
Althea and Donna,
Charles Mingus,
Banda Bassotti,
Soft Machine,
JFA,
The Alarm Clocks,
Average White Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Moody Blues,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alton Ellis,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Maleditus Sound,
Minor Threat,
The Angels of Light,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bluetip,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.