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 East Timor and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Amazonics to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Sex Pistols,
Pagans,
Dave Gahan,
Infiniti,
The Invisible,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bang On A Can,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Green,
Carl Craig,
Max Romeo,
The Music Machine,
Popol Vuh,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barrington Levy,
The Count Five,
The Monks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
DJ Style,
Roy Ayers,
Wasted Youth,
The Offenders,
The Dirtbombs,
Delta 5,
Joyce Sims,
Basic Channel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brick,
Michelle Simonal,
Sixth Finger,
The Litter,
New Order,
The Mojo Men,
Jeff Mills,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ronan,
Au Pairs,
Clear Light,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fuzztones,
Scratch Acid,
Ronnie Foster,
Ludus,
Marine Girls,
The Fall,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Sheep,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantytec,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stereo Dub,
Toni Rubio,
Bluetip,
Metal Thangz,
David Bowie,
Nick Fraelich,
Livin' Joy,
Excepter,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.