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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultravox 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Pierre Henry,
Qualms,
The Index,
Henry Cow,
Pagans,
Underground Resistance,
Rosa Yemen,
H. Thieme,
Boogie Down Productions,
T. Rex,
Anakelly,
Alphaville,
Barrington Levy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pylon,
Spandau Ballet,
The Star Department,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Funky Four + One,
These Immortal Souls,
Monks,
La Düsseldorf,
Barclay James Harvest,
Smog,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Donald Byrd,
Piero Umiliani,
Unrelated Segments,
Zero Boys,
The Kinks,
Albert Ayler,
Cybotron,
The Durutti Column,
Quando Quango,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Pulsallama,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Busters,
Bronski Beat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ludus,
New Age Steppers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lindisfarne,
Infiniti,
Bill Near,
Soft Machine,
Joy Division,
Tomorrow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Technova,
Bobby Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Heaven 17,
The Music Machine,
Scan 7,
Slave,
Laurel Aitken,
The Happenings,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.