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 Syria and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Chris Corsano to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
B.T. Express,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare,
Archie Shepp,
New Order,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Junior Murvin,
Warren Ellis,
Dead Boys,
Tom Boy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Todd Terry,
Angry Samoans,
Glenn Branca,
Blancmange,
The Neon Judgement,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Young Marble Giants,
Joyce Sims,
Derrick Morgan,
Quando Quango,
Panda Bear,
F. McDonald,
Livin' Joy,
Sarah Menescal,
Mr. Review,
Ludus,
The Vogues,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Sonics,
The Trojans,
PIL,
Kenny Larkin,
Tomorrow,
Nils Olav,
Supertramp,
Slick Rick,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Essential Logic,
Sandy B,
The Stooges,
Henry Cow,
Ossler,
June of 44,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Flag,
The United States of America,
Ronnie Foster,
Kerri Chandler,
The Doors,
Camberwell Now,
Bob Dylan,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Bootsy Collins,
La Düsseldorf,
Bluetip,
Fela Kuti,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.