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 Mozambique and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 Skaos to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Jeff Mills,
World's Most,
Eric Copeland,
Morten Harket,
Lakeside,
The Detroit Cobras,
Popol Vuh,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amazonics,
Colin Newman,
cv313,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sandy B,
Fatback Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Depeche Mode,
The Blues Magoos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Niagra,
Arab on Radar,
Fluxion,
The Residents,
Los Fastidios,
Stereo Dub,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oblivians,
The Music Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
Deakin,
Sällskapet,
Lindisfarne,
Pulsallama,
The Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Agent Orange,
R.M.O.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bob Dylan,
Lou Christie,
Quadrant,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rod Modell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joy Division,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gun Club,
The Star Department,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
The Last Poets,
Bad Manners,
Freddie Wadling,
Patti Smith,
The Slits,
John Foxx,
Steve Hackett,
Yaz,
Robert Hood,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.