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 Equatorial Guinea and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kurtis Blow to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '60s 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 The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Audionom,
Cecil Taylor,
Jandek,
The Fall,
Qualms,
Sparks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ituana,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Slits,
Desert Stars,
Pole,
Ken Boothe,
Ultravox,
New York Dolls,
Josef K,
Nas,
Hot Snakes,
The Divine Comedy,
the Slits,
Moby Grape,
Charles Mingus,
Organ,
David McCallum,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Hutcherson,
China Crisis,
The Offenders,
Amon Düül,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Near,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Todd Terry,
Marvin Gaye,
Grauzone,
Slave,
Mission of Burma,
Barry Ungar,
Fela Kuti,
the Germs,
The Black Dice,
Delta 5,
Barrington Levy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Gories,
R.M.O.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Green,
The Gun Club,
The Skatalites,
Alice Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Schoolly D,
Deakin,
Television Personalities,
Kenny Larkin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hasil Adkins,
Jeff Mills,
Dennis Brown,
The Tremeloes,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.