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 Uganda and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Make Up to the rap 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Gap Band,
Adolescents,
The Sonics,
Eli Mardock,
Fela Kuti,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sonny Sharrock,
David Bowie,
The American Breed,
Stetsasonic,
The Durutti Column,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Bourne,
Howard Jones,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Lydon,
Aural Exciters,
kango's stein massive,
Marmalade,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gories,
Junior Murvin,
Youth Brigade,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rotary Connection,
Aswad,
Echospace,
Ten City,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fire Engines,
Minor Threat,
Zapp,
Bush Tetras,
Qualms,
Lucky Dragons,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Music Machine,
Arcadia,
The Blackbyrds,
Iggy Pop,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sparks,
the Human League,
John Foxx,
It's A Beautiful Day,
UT,
Ultimate Spinach,
New York Dolls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chrome,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Underground Resistance,
Alphaville,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sarah Menescal,
Fugazi,
Terry Callier,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.