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 Bangladesh and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Aswad,
Agent Orange,
the Swans,
John Lydon,
Jeff Lynne,
Parry Music,
Mantronix,
Eddi Front,
Thee Headcoats,
Franke,
Stetsasonic,
The Trojans,
The Golliwogs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lakeside,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
The Leaves,
Ossler,
Japan,
Alison Limerick,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Country Teasers,
A Certain Ratio,
Faraquet,
Das Ding,
The Evens,
Henry Cow,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slackers,
Hashim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nils Olav,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Charles Mingus,
Brothers Johnson,
Kenny Larkin,
Flipper,
Arab on Radar,
F. McDonald,
Delta 5,
Hardrive,
The Gun Club,
Von Mondo,
Black Bananas,
Aural Exciters,
The Cramps,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yellowson,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Litter,
Prince Buster,
The Dirtbombs,
The New Christs,
The Stooges,
Jerry's Kids,
The Blackbyrds,
Sonic Youth,
Derrick May,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.