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 Tonga and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Masters at Work to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Popol Vuh,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DJ Sneak,
Camberwell Now,
Swell Maps,
Deepchord,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Angels of Light,
The Modern Lovers,
Soul II Soul,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unwound,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Patti Smith,
Yaz,
The Blackbyrds,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Nico,
The Smiths,
John Lydon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Matthew Bourne,
Blake Baxter,
Jandek,
Supertramp,
Rites of Spring,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
ABBA,
Aaron Thompson,
LL Cool J,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Blossom Toes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Monks,
Lou Reed,
The Fortunes,
Bob Dylan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Al Stewart,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Evens,
Skaos,
Danielle Patucci,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Adolescents,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Moleskins,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Cell,
Moss Icon,
Gabor Szabo,
The Young Rascals,
Sixth Finger,
The Offenders,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.