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 Guinea-Bissau and from Halifax.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nik Kershaw to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Robert Wyatt,
John Cale,
Man Eating Sloth,
cv313,
The Alarm Clocks,
T.S.O.L.,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cecil Taylor,
Tears for Fears,
the Bar-Kays,
Dual Sessions,
The Slackers,
The Smiths,
Neil Young,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cybotron,
Drexciya,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Music Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Alphaville,
Livin' Joy,
The Grass Roots,
F. McDonald,
Guru Guru,
Barry Ungar,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Brick,
Ken Boothe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bill Near,
Simply Red,
Maleditus Sound,
Cymande,
Pierre Henry,
DJ Sneak,
Youth Brigade,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Leaves,
Scientists,
Judy Mowatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Mark Hollis,
Aswad,
Bobby Womack,
Shuggie Otis,
The Slits,
Quantec,
Pussy Galore,
Mary Jane Girls,
Shoche,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Fraelich,
Freddie Wadling,
Rosa Yemen,
Camouflage,
Amazonics,
Lindisfarne,
The Happenings,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.