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 United Kingdom and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Stockholm Monsters to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rufus Thomas,
Toni Rubio,
Deadbeat,
DJ Sneak,
Stiv Bators,
Babytalk,
The Doobie Brothers,
K-Klass,
Glenn Branca,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Moleskins,
Goldenarms,
John Holt,
The Slits,
Bill Wells,
Lakeside,
Soul II Soul,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Litter,
The Gladiators,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lightning Bolt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marmalade,
Bush Tetras,
The Grass Roots,
the Swans,
This Heat,
Lalo Schifrin,
Intrusion,
ABC,
Agent Orange,
June of 44,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Foxx,
cv313,
The Fuzztones,
Technova,
Brothers Johnson,
Aaron Thompson,
The Move,
kango's stein massive,
Easy Going,
Minor Threat,
Duran Duran,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ponytail,
The Leaves,
Adolescents,
The Gun Club,
Fad Gadget,
Youth Brigade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
a-ha,
Index,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.