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 Mozambique and from Lille.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Techniques to the rap 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy 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?
Soul Sonic Force,
Arcadia,
Shuggie Otis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glenn Branca,
Minnie Riperton,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sound,
Soft Cell,
Lindisfarne,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Byron Stingily,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pantytec,
Agitation Free,
The Vogues,
Laurel Aitken,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Soft Cell,
Tears for Fears,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mad Mike,
Buzzcocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter & Gordon,
Pylon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Excepter,
Barrington Levy,
Stereo Dub,
Von Mondo,
The Gories,
The Seeds,
Camberwell Now,
Blake Baxter,
Grauzone,
Fatback Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sex Pistols,
Juan Atkins,
Quando Quango,
The Martian,
Monks,
The Kinks,
Pussy Galore,
Arthur Verocai,
Interpol,
Andrew Hill,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Happenings,
Gabor Szabo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
World's Most,
Joey Negro,
Eden Ahbez,
Panda Bear,
The United States of America,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.