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 Serbia and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Freddie Wadling to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-101,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eric Copeland,
Grauzone,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gladiators,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Charles Mingus,
Au Pairs,
Schoolly D,
Kenny Larkin,
Stereo Dub,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Johnny Clarke,
Moss Icon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Popol Vuh,
The Leaves,
Erasure,
The Fugs,
Graham Central Station,
U.S. Maple,
10cc,
Jawbox,
Pere Ubu,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lower 48,
Pylon,
Roy Ayers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Angry Samoans,
The Black Dice,
Derrick May,
H. Thieme,
Janne Schatter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Danielle Patucci,
Funkadelic,
Radiopuhelimet,
T. Rex,
Warren Ellis,
D'Angelo,
Archie Shepp,
Slave,
Siglo XX,
Junior Murvin,
Chris Corsano,
The Stooges,
Marine Girls,
Dead Boys,
CMW,
Fat Boys,
Shoche,
Nick Fraelich,
Can,
Althea and Donna,
A Certain Ratio,
Magazine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.