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 Mali and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the rap 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
The Remains,
Desert Stars,
La Düsseldorf,
Harry Pussy,
A Certain Ratio,
The Trojans,
The Blues Magoos,
Flipper,
Jawbox,
Sexual Harrassment,
The J.B.'s,
Brothers Johnson,
Freddie Wadling,
The Star Department,
Adolescents,
Joensuu 1685,
Urselle,
Dawn Penn,
Wings,
Intrusion,
Sugar Minott,
Robert Hood,
Alphaville,
Malaria!,
Anthony Braxton,
Glenn Branca,
The Residents,
Sparks,
Pantaleimon,
Piero Umiliani,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Evens,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Essential Logic,
Neu!,
Gang Green,
Camouflage,
Rites of Spring,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bill Near,
Fugazi,
Tears for Fears,
The Leaves,
Fad Gadget,
Hardrive,
Banda Bassotti,
Yaz,
Bush Tetras,
The Durutti Column,
Whodini,
Jacques Brel,
Visage,
Gang Starr,
Oneida,
Television,
Royal Trux,
LL Cool J,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.