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 Guinea-Bissau and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 James White and The Blacks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Prince Buster,
The Fire Engines,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Alarm Clocks,
48th St. Collective,
Soft Machine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Little Man,
Funkadelic,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Outsiders,
Crooked Eye,
Blake Baxter,
Fear,
Inner City,
Babytalk,
Dual Sessions,
Technova,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sam Rivers,
Bill Near,
Supertramp,
Sex Pistols,
Crispy Ambulance,
Goldenarms,
Parry Music,
Roxette,
Deadbeat,
Kurtis Blow,
Chrome,
Black Sheep,
Echospace,
R.M.O.,
The Sonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Residents,
Roger Hodgson,
Harmonia,
The Black Dice,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Five Americans,
Aloha Tigers,
Juan Atkins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
This Heat,
Theoretical Girls,
MDC,
Sandy B,
Joy Division,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pere Ubu,
Eden Ahbez,
John Cale,
The Remains,
Moebius,
The Motions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Q65,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.