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 Cyprus and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 the Bar-Kays to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Con Funk Shun,
John Lydon,
Patti Smith,
Talk Talk,
Amazonics,
The Kinks,
The Dead C,
Arab on Radar,
Cheater Slicks,
Depeche Mode,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mojo Men,
Brick,
Excepter,
AZ,
Marine Girls,
Supertramp,
Electric Prunes,
New Order,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare,
Erasure,
Joe Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cybotron,
Kas Product,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eden Ahbez,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minny Pops,
Gichy Dan,
Swans,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
David Axelrod,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Letta Mbulu,
Soulsonic Force,
Sound Behaviour,
K-Klass,
Visage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
The Golliwogs,
Quando Quango,
Infiniti,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
CMW,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sex Pistols,
Quantec,
Byron Stingily,
Model 500,
Motorama,
Fat Boys,
Brass Construction,
Das Ding,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.