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 Cape Verde and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Vainqueur to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Rhythm & Sound,
E-Dancer,
Gang Starr,
Matthew Halsall,
The Gap Band,
Byron Stingily,
Minnie Riperton,
Babytalk,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cramps,
UT,
The Monks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wasted Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chrome,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Audionom,
Tres Demented,
Q65,
Jerry's Kids,
Gabor Szabo,
Judy Mowatt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nico,
Mr. Review,
Drexciya,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pere Ubu,
Fugazi,
The Associates,
Ohio Players,
Pantytec,
Arthur Verocai,
Johnny Clarke,
The Techniques,
Ponytail,
The Tremeloes,
Pantaleimon,
Fela Kuti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Swans,
Mandrill,
Outsiders,
The Standells,
Inner City,
Delon & Dalcan,
Trumans Water,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The American Breed,
Porter Ricks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kas Product,
Robert Hood,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.