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 United States and from New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron 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 Stetsasonic to the grime 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
The Divine Comedy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brick,
John Lydon,
Surgeon,
Technova,
Shoche,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Star Department,
Cameo,
Mark Hollis,
Fela Kuti,
Gong,
Gerry Rafferty,
OOIOO,
Niagra,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sex Pistols,
The Selecter,
Bronski Beat,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aural Exciters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Desert Stars,
Gang Starr,
Theoretical Girls,
Soul II Soul,
Donald Byrd,
Radiohead,
The Last Poets,
DJ Style,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dark Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Scott Walker,
The Toasters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Warsaw,
These Immortal Souls,
The Residents,
Isaac Hayes,
Eurythmics,
Sight & Sound,
Infiniti,
Sparks,
Depeche Mode,
David McCallum,
Althea and Donna,
Piero Umiliani,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Skarface,
Section 25,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marine Girls,
Crash Course in Science,
Spandau Ballet,
Qualms,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.