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 Luxembourg and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 8 Eyed Spy to the disco 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Smoke,
Eve St. Jones,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rakim,
Ronan,
X-101,
Ten City,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Echospace,
Qualms,
Sparks,
Spoonie Gee,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Quantec,
The Red Krayola,
The Invisible,
Reagan Youth,
Rod Modell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gladiators,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Christie,
Bob Dylan,
Funky Four + One,
The Pretty Things,
Half Japanese,
Arthur Verocai,
The Velvet Underground,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gories,
Goldenarms,
The Trojans,
Heaven 17,
Lindisfarne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiohead,
Prince Buster,
The Names,
Kas Product,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boredoms,
Dawn Penn,
The Cure,
Livin' Joy,
The Pop Group,
the Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
FM Einheit,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Clear Light,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Pus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Last Poets,
Todd Terry,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.