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 Lesotho and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet 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 Junior Murvin to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Donald Byrd,
Nik Kershaw,
Underground Resistance,
Sight & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quadrant,
Marcia Griffiths,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Swans,
Quando Quango,
The Victims,
Howard Jones,
The Knickerbockers,
Livin' Joy,
Darondo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
X-Ray Spex,
In Retrospect,
Supertramp,
This Heat,
Cal Tjader,
Mad Mike,
Pussy Galore,
Tears for Fears,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
A Certain Ratio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Agitation Free,
Gang Gang Dance,
Skarface,
MDC,
Morten Harket,
Carl Craig,
The Mojo Men,
James White and The Blacks,
Deadbeat,
Scrapy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Groovy Waters,
Blossom Toes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rufus Thomas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Y Pants,
The Names,
the Soft Cell,
Davy DMX,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
Crooked Eye,
The Motions,
X-101,
Slave,
Pierre Henry,
Rotary Connection,
Nick Fraelich,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.