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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 E-Dancer to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Byron Stingily,
Smog,
Alice Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Pulsallama,
Audionom,
Pagans,
Mission of Burma,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Residents,
Sonny Sharrock,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arcadia,
The Knickerbockers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hasil Adkins,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joensuu 1685,
The Standells,
The Index,
the Soft Cell,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
L. Decosne,
Nik Kershaw,
Underground Resistance,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Stooges,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kaleidoscope,
Babytalk,
Jacob Miller,
The Blackbyrds,
Soul Sonic Force,
E-Dancer,
Aswad,
Agent Orange,
Carl Craig,
Rapeman,
Half Japanese,
cv313,
Theoretical Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Normal,
Cecil Taylor,
Alton Ellis,
Bill Near,
Anakelly,
Al Stewart,
The Fuzztones,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Barracudas,
T.S.O.L.,
Scion,
Brothers Johnson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cheater Slicks,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.