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 Nauru and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba 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 Lou Christie to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Model 500,
The Fall,
Metal Thangz,
Ken Boothe,
David Axelrod,
Organ,
Bizarre Inc.,
Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Barracudas,
Flipper,
Porter Ricks,
Lalann,
Colin Newman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Alison Limerick,
Livin' Joy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fad Gadget,
Susan Cadogan,
Althea and Donna,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Silicon Teens,
Lower 48,
Mark Hollis,
New Age Steppers,
Wally Richardson,
Babytalk,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Residents,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Moody Blues,
Jandek,
The Happenings,
Lungfish,
Make Up,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Henry Cow,
Eve St. Jones,
R.M.O.,
Aswad,
Sugar Minott,
Smog,
Banda Bassotti,
The Wake,
The Grass Roots,
Bronski Beat,
Aaron Thompson,
Ronnie Foster,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Five Americans,
Bush Tetras,
Liliput,
Bobby Sherman,
Blossom Toes,
Don Cherry,
Jeru the Damaja,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.