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 Seychelles and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Terrestrial Tones to the techno 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Groovy Waters,
Jawbox,
Letta Mbulu,
Jerry's Kids,
Patti Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Anakelly,
Matthew Halsall,
Easy Going,
Joy Division,
Kas Product,
Al Stewart,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fear,
the Normal,
Ludus,
The Neon Judgement,
David Bowie,
Technova,
Model 500,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Section 25,
The Pretty Things,
Michelle Simonal,
Joe Smooth,
Average White Band,
The Count Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
Audionom,
Dawn Penn,
Archie Shepp,
Jacob Miller,
Excepter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Second Layer,
the Soft Cell,
David McCallum,
Roxette,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crash Course in Science,
The Knickerbockers,
Deakin,
Pylon,
The Cowsills,
Sixth Finger,
Tommy Roe,
The Five Americans,
Fela Kuti,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood,
Niagra,
Blancmange,
Idris Muhammad,
The Human League,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.