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 Guatemala and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Von Mondo,
Cybotron,
Derrick Morgan,
Kaleidoscope,
Second Layer,
The Martian,
Glenn Branca,
The Grass Roots,
The Modern Lovers,
Pole,
David McCallum,
Cymande,
Bang On A Can,
Depeche Mode,
Adolescents,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mars,
Soft Machine,
Soul II Soul,
Desert Stars,
The Seeds,
Roxette,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Supertramp,
Fluxion,
CMW,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joy Division,
Masters at Work,
Eric B and Rakim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Newcleus,
Eden Ahbez,
Outsiders,
Crime,
Tom Boy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soft Cell,
Cameo,
Angry Samoans,
Morten Harket,
Jawbox,
Bobby Byrd,
James White and The Blacks,
Tubeway Army,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Young Marble Giants,
In Retrospect,
The Young Rascals,
Gil Scott Heron,
Franke,
Letta Mbulu,
Suicide,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Youth Brigade,
Neu!,
Maleditus Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
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.