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 Dominican Republic and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Blossom Toes,
Lindisfarne,
Talk Talk,
Panda Bear,
Pere Ubu,
Jacob Miller,
Max Romeo,
kango's stein massive,
The Smiths,
Eve St. Jones,
Inner City,
Glenn Branca,
New Order,
Soft Machine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sister Nancy,
Monolake,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Trumans Water,
MC5,
Dark Day,
Rites of Spring,
Freddie Wadling,
Symarip,
Peter & Gordon,
Electric Prunes,
Sight & Sound,
Donald Byrd,
the Normal,
Oneida,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Music Machine,
Q65,
Arab on Radar,
The Modern Lovers,
Dead Boys,
F. McDonald,
Sonic Youth,
Severed Heads,
Adolescents,
Howard Jones,
Brick,
Au Pairs,
New York Dolls,
Qualms,
The Wake,
Accadde A,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Masters at Work,
Drexciya,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bluetip,
Guru Guru,
Girls At Our Best!,
AZ,
Liliput,
The Selecter,
Fugazi,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.