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 Uganda and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Archie Shepp to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Malaria!,
The Blackbyrds,
Slick Rick,
The Moleskins,
Pussy Galore,
Symarip,
Severed Heads,
Pylon,
Model 500,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Zero Boys,
Accadde A,
Ralphi Rosario,
Swans,
Young Marble Giants,
Roxette,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roger Hodgson,
Silicon Teens,
Thompson Twins,
Dave Gahan,
Camberwell Now,
Wasted Youth,
Albert Ayler,
Agitation Free,
Jacob Miller,
Lindisfarne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris Corsano,
The Last Poets,
Yaz,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Idris Muhammad,
Rakim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sunsets and Hearts,
John Foxx,
Godley & Creme,
the Slits,
The Offenders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hot Snakes,
Bob Dylan,
Moss Icon,
Janne Schatter,
Ohio Players,
The Fugs,
Hasil Adkins,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Susan Cadogan,
Kurtis Blow,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fuzztones,
Cal Tjader,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.