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 Qatar and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 These Immortal Souls to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Gregory Isaacs,
Trumans Water,
Severed Heads,
Lou Reed,
The Leaves,
ABC,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Monks,
The Red Krayola,
Althea and Donna,
Accadde A,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mr. Review,
Ken Boothe,
The Cure,
The Moody Blues,
Ultra Naté,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Thee Headcoats,
Excepter,
Jimmy McGriff,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Das Ding,
The Gladiators,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pole,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ornette Coleman,
The Velvet Underground,
Tubeway Army,
Y Pants,
Brass Construction,
Avey Tare,
Robert Görl,
Roxy Music,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Index,
Smog,
Underground Resistance,
Al Stewart,
Sun Ra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Black Dice,
Sällskapet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
Essential Logic,
T.S.O.L.,
Hot Snakes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Parry Music,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quando Quango,
Hoover,
Magma,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.