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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Althea and Donna,
Todd Terry,
Scientists,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharoah Sanders,
The New Christs,
Ken Boothe,
Warren Ellis,
Flash Fearless,
June Days,
Scion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
T. Rex,
Donny Hathaway,
Stetsasonic,
Babytalk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Livin' Joy,
Drexciya,
the Normal,
Rekid,
Yaz,
Wings,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Talk Talk,
Grey Daturas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Visage,
Soul Sonic Force,
Freddie Wadling,
The Real Kids,
The Divine Comedy,
Henry Cow,
Lou Christie,
Amazonics,
Deadbeat,
Sex Pistols,
Mark Hollis,
Dark Day,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
DJ Sneak,
The Angels of Light,
John Lydon,
Connie Case,
Jawbox,
Shoche,
Morten Harket,
Zapp,
EPMD,
Adolescents,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Reed,
The Kinks,
The Gap Band,
Los Fastidios,
Young Marble Giants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Neon Judgement,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.