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 Jordan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 United States of America to the punk 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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
The Mummies,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
UT,
Robert Hood,
Shuggie Otis,
Yaz,
Schoolly D,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
Quantec,
New Order,
Lalo Schifrin,
PIL,
Jeff Lynne,
Graham Central Station,
Bill Near,
Hashim,
The Sound,
Tomorrow,
ABBA,
The Index,
Mr. Review,
Sandy B,
Toni Rubio,
Magazine,
The Smiths,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yusef Lateef,
The Litter,
The Young Rascals,
Ten City,
The Slackers,
The Sonics,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Germs,
Susan Cadogan,
The Evens,
The Standells,
The Moody Blues,
Yellowson,
Scrapy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Interpol,
Wire,
Freddie Wadling,
Joensuu 1685,
Inner City,
Suicide,
Albert Ayler,
Aloha Tigers,
Connie Case,
Fad Gadget,
The Invisible,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Görl,
DJ Sneak,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.