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 Romania and from Copenhagen.
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 Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Lou Christie to the electroclash 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith 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 electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Liliput,
Howard Jones,
Harmonia,
Desert Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rites of Spring,
Marshall Jefferson,
China Crisis,
Girls At Our Best!,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
The Slackers,
Barbara Tucker,
Loose Ends,
Nik Kershaw,
Los Fastidios,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Sneak,
The Black Dice,
MC5,
Q65,
Ludus,
Visage,
Lou Christie,
Unwound,
Newcleus,
The Fall,
Black Flag,
ABBA,
Rakim,
The Pop Group,
The Dave Clark Five,
Chrome,
Panda Bear,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pussy Galore,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric Dolphy,
Moebius,
L. Decosne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minnie Riperton,
June Days,
Pere Ubu,
Skarface,
Skaos,
Gabor Szabo,
The Toasters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Half Japanese,
Laurel Aitken,
Dawn Penn,
Ituana,
Joyce Sims,
The Walker Brothers,
Aswad,
Youth Brigade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deadbeat,
Agitation Free,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.