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 Yemen and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Neon Judgement to the crunk 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Raincoats,
Minor Threat,
The Misunderstood,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crooked Eye,
The Martian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New Order,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Urselle,
Robert Hood,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tubeway Army,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angry Samoans,
Dual Sessions,
Sparks,
EPMD,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bronski Beat,
Gichy Dan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Underground Resistance,
Neil Young,
Oblivians,
Jeff Lynne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Desert Stars,
Dark Day,
Yusef Lateef,
The Move,
World's Most,
Peter & Gordon,
Eric Dolphy,
Excepter,
Nico,
Eric B and Rakim,
Letta Mbulu,
Oneida,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Terrestrial Tones,
Suicide,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wolf Eyes,
The Pop Group,
Fatback Band,
Rod Modell,
Lebanon Hanover,
The J.B.'s,
Stiv Bators,
The Techniques,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bluetip,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.