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 Vietnam and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Masters at Work to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Oblivians,
Iggy Pop,
Blancmange,
Mandrill,
Wings,
The Searchers,
Rosa Yemen,
The Music Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Idris Muhammad,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Index,
Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Los Fastidios,
Unwound,
Black Sheep,
Lower 48,
Vainqueur,
Deepchord,
China Crisis,
James White and The Blacks,
Suicide,
Barry Ungar,
48th St. Collective,
Banda Bassotti,
Sunsets and Hearts,
This Heat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Magazine,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gories,
Visage,
Kerri Chandler,
Metal Thangz,
The Moody Blues,
Cal Tjader,
The Tremeloes,
Avey Tare,
X-101,
Cymande,
Howard Jones,
Ponytail,
Sun City Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantaleimon,
Inner City,
The Dead C,
Derrick Morgan,
Scientists,
Graham Central Station,
Motorama,
Ronnie Foster,
Duran Duran,
The Residents,
Roy Ayers,
Gabor Szabo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Victims,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.