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 Libya and from Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Godley & Creme to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Procol Harum,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABC,
Quando Quango,
Brick,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Average White Band,
Wings,
Skarface,
Al Stewart,
Sonic Youth,
Janne Schatter,
the Bar-Kays,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mission of Burma,
Fear,
Roxette,
The Techniques,
The Young Rascals,
Tears for Fears,
Massinfluence,
Adolescents,
The Flesh Eaters,
Don Cherry,
Porter Ricks,
The Stooges,
The Last Poets,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Surgeon,
Sandy B,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Desert Stars,
Trumans Water,
Donny Hathaway,
Bush Tetras,
The Angels of Light,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camberwell Now,
Mad Mike,
This Heat,
Crispian St. Peters,
Saccharine Trust,
La Düsseldorf,
Cabaret Voltaire,
EPMD,
Khruangbin,
Robert Görl,
Maleditus Sound,
Prince Buster,
Barry Ungar,
Letta Mbulu,
Gichy Dan,
Tom Boy,
Make Up,
Zero Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
Cymande,
The Gladiators,
JFA,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.