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 Slovenia and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Slave to the dance 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Agent Orange,
Theoretical Girls,
Ronan,
The Star Department,
Fluxion,
Television,
Kayak,
Mandrill,
Idris Muhammad,
Heaven 17,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Black Dice,
The Golliwogs,
The Dirtbombs,
Bluetip,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ludus,
Pole,
The Victims,
R.M.O.,
Pulsallama,
the Human League,
Ponytail,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Bananas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Alison Limerick,
Darondo,
Moss Icon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fortunes,
Boz Scaggs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crime,
Camouflage,
Alphaville,
Cameo,
Carl Craig,
The Music Machine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scratch Acid,
Stetsasonic,
Depeche Mode,
Skarface,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Hood,
Lucky Dragons,
Matthew Halsall,
Wally Richardson,
Aural Exciters,
Nirvana,
Lungfish,
James White and The Blacks,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.