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 Tonga and from Philadelphia.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gang Green to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Sarah Menescal,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bob Dylan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Searchers,
Anakelly,
Pantytec,
Roxette,
Eric Copeland,
48th St. Collective,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Q and Not U,
Byron Stingily,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Simply Red,
Skriet,
The Wake,
Erykah Badu,
Gang of Four,
The New Christs,
Buzzcocks,
Lalann,
Interpol,
Joy Division,
Chris & Cosey,
Delon & Dalcan,
Drexciya,
Von Mondo,
Max Romeo,
Hasil Adkins,
Jerry's Kids,
Deadbeat,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boredoms,
In Retrospect,
Joyce Sims,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Absolute Body Control,
Gichy Dan,
The Last Poets,
The Velvet Underground,
Ossler,
Dual Sessions,
Wasted Youth,
Josef K,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare,
Barrington Levy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tom Boy,
Radiohead,
Alton Ellis,
Nik Kershaw,
Reagan Youth,
Todd Terry,
Masters at Work,
Susan Cadogan,
Electric Prunes,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.