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 Papua New Guinea 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin 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 Quantec to the dance 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Cure,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Copeland,
Icehouse,
Glenn Branca,
Con Funk Shun,
Aural Exciters,
Monolake,
Tom Boy,
Babytalk,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Sherman,
Rakim,
The Doors,
China Crisis,
Camouflage,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Section 25,
Slick Rick,
Model 500,
Brand Nubian,
Simply Red,
Charles Mingus,
Cybotron,
Joey Negro,
Maurizio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alphaville,
Derrick Morgan,
Tim Buckley,
Mandrill,
The Pretty Things,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Depeche Mode,
Magma,
The Zeros,
Terry Callier,
Interpol,
Hardrive,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blake Baxter,
Black Sheep,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mr. Review,
Ituana,
The Victims,
This Heat,
Guru Guru,
The Slits,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Idris Muhammad,
the Slits,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Silicon Teens,
John Lydon,
Grauzone,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.