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 Vietnam and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the grime 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tom Boy,
The Martian,
Byron Stingily,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scion,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Invisible,
Kas Product,
Rites of Spring,
Can,
The Busters,
Nils Olav,
Eric Copeland,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crispy Ambulance,
ABBA,
Roger Hodgson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric B and Rakim,
R.M.O.,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Tremeloes,
The Moody Blues,
Black Moon,
Jacques Brel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Donald Byrd,
Rhythm & Sound,
Second Layer,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skarface,
The Five Americans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Siglo XX,
Ultra Naté,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Y Pants,
Sixth Finger,
The Standells,
Kenny Larkin,
Alphaville,
Jacob Miller,
The Birthday Party,
Eric Dolphy,
Sällskapet,
Scientists,
The Sonics,
John Foxx,
Duran Duran,
Reagan Youth,
The Fall,
The Neon Judgement,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.