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 Madagascar and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 B.T. Express to the grime 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Motorama,
La Düsseldorf,
Echospace,
Jesper Dahlback,
8 Eyed Spy,
Flash Fearless,
Trumans Water,
Ultimate Spinach,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soul II Soul,
Mark Hollis,
B.T. Express,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cybotron,
Procol Harum,
Little Man,
The Cramps,
Anakelly,
Mantronix,
R.M.O.,
Popol Vuh,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
World's Most,
Glenn Branca,
Swell Maps,
Schoolly D,
Siglo XX,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Barracudas,
Moebius,
John Holt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Infiniti,
The Blackbyrds,
Reagan Youth,
Los Fastidios,
The Index,
Eddi Front,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Circle Jerks,
Negative Approach,
Spandau Ballet,
The Selecter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stiv Bators,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Easy Going,
David Bowie,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Prunes,
Cheater Slicks,
Monolake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wire,
Susan Cadogan,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.