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 Colombia and from New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Qualms to the punk 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rakim,
Yellowson,
Lyres,
The Flesh Eaters,
Organ,
The Motions,
The Black Dice,
Mars,
John Holt,
Maurizio,
Outsiders,
Au Pairs,
John Foxx,
The Count Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fire Engines,
Sparks,
Black Sheep,
Youth Brigade,
X-Ray Spex,
Electric Prunes,
The Fortunes,
Sugar Minott,
Ken Boothe,
the Human League,
Sister Nancy,
The Detroit Cobras,
B.T. Express,
Magma,
Davy DMX,
Con Funk Shun,
World's Most,
Nik Kershaw,
Peter and Kerry,
Ponytail,
Lakeside,
La Düsseldorf,
Zapp,
Hardrive,
MDC,
Bluetip,
Soulsonic Force,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suicide,
Aaron Thompson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Duran Duran,
Crash Course in Science,
Hasil Adkins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Khruangbin,
Flipper,
The Martian,
Tim Buckley,
Nick Fraelich,
Alton Ellis,
The Wake,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.