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 Denmark and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Todd Rundgren to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Nik Kershaw,
Maleditus Sound,
Suicide,
Mad Mike,
The Mojo Men,
Sun Ra,
The Human League,
Lou Reed,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sparks,
Boz Scaggs,
Audionom,
Circle Jerks,
Donald Byrd,
Popol Vuh,
Barbara Tucker,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Golliwogs,
The Litter,
Pole,
Faraquet,
Guru Guru,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Sheep,
The Star Department,
Yellowson,
Loose Ends,
Agent Orange,
Johnny Osbourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Pretty Things,
Metal Thangz,
John Coltrane,
The Pop Group,
Soul II Soul,
Rod Modell,
Soulsonic Force,
Terry Callier,
The Black Dice,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bill Wells,
The Toasters,
Au Pairs,
DJ Style,
Barclay James Harvest,
Faust,
Moby Grape,
The Birthday Party,
Gang of Four,
Cal Tjader,
Television Personalities,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Excepter,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Angels of Light,
The J.B.'s,
Connie Case,
The Saints,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.