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 Turkey and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 Monks to the crunk 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ 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 oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chrome,
Laurel Aitken,
Scientists,
The Evens,
Gang of Four,
Pantaleimon,
The Index,
Todd Terry,
The Divine Comedy,
The Misunderstood,
Traffic Nightmare,
Banda Bassotti,
Bob Dylan,
Lou Christie,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Vladislav Delay,
Dawn Penn,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
Nils Olav,
Qualms,
Delta 5,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pere Ubu,
Spoonie Gee,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Foxx,
Tres Demented,
Panda Bear,
MDC,
The Count Five,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
Schoolly D,
Donald Byrd,
UT,
Stockholm Monsters,
Electric Prunes,
Youth Brigade,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Amon Düül,
Liliput,
Heaven 17,
Warren Ellis,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Little Man,
Public Image Ltd.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Albert Ayler,
The Star Department,
Stereo Dub,
Sight & Sound,
The Offenders,
Goldenarms,
Neil Young,
Hot Snakes,
Pierre Henry,
Camouflage,
R.M.O.,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.