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 Niger and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scrapy 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Gang Gang Dance,
Shuggie Otis,
Kool Moe Dee,
ABBA,
Moss Icon,
Motorama,
Ken Boothe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mad Mike,
Nation of Ulysses,
Charles Mingus,
The Evens,
Mandrill,
Ohio Players,
Sparks,
The Neon Judgement,
Au Pairs,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric Dolphy,
Arcadia,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fall,
X-102,
The Skatalites,
Terrestrial Tones,
Matthew Halsall,
Quantec,
Isaac Hayes,
Minutemen,
Ossler,
PIL,
48th St. Collective,
Black Sheep,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fugs,
The New Christs,
Cal Tjader,
Eric B and Rakim,
Johnny Clarke,
The Residents,
The Smoke,
Babytalk,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
a-ha,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Osbourne,
Toni Rubio,
Ronan,
Aloha Tigers,
Nico,
The Beau Brummels,
The Move,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Buckinghams,
Buzzcocks,
Goldenarms,
Sight & Sound,
Wasted Youth,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.