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 Philippines 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Young Marble Giants to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Bauhaus,
Von Mondo,
Judy Mowatt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boz Scaggs,
Outsiders,
Sandy B,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mantronix,
Slick Rick,
Arab on Radar,
Tears for Fears,
Loose Ends,
Joe Finger,
Skarface,
The Martian,
the Sonics,
Theoretical Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Lucky Dragons,
Wire,
Yaz,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Real Kids,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Funky Four + One,
Popol Vuh,
Mark Hollis,
The Smoke,
E-Dancer,
EPMD,
Black Moon,
Echospace,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Birthday Party,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nirvana,
David Bowie,
Neil Young,
DJ Sneak,
The Names,
Lakeside,
Alton Ellis,
Scientists,
The Wake,
Jeff Lynne,
The Blues Magoos,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Pus,
Rakim,
The Count Five,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Carl Craig,
Agent Orange,
Newcleus,
Robert Hood,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.