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 Uzbekistan and from Mumbai.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Newcleus to the punk 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Public Enemy,
Yellowson,
Bill Wells,
Reagan Youth,
the Soft Cell,
The Divine Comedy,
David Axelrod,
Pagans,
Hoover,
The Five Americans,
The Gap Band,
Morten Harket,
Joe Finger,
The Residents,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
Swans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jawbox,
Grey Daturas,
Wally Richardson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jandek,
Liliput,
Monks,
Chrome,
The Seeds,
Make Up,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lower 48,
Alphaville,
The Wake,
Tomorrow,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blake Baxter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pulsallama,
Sex Pistols,
Sonic Youth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Anthony Braxton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Last Poets,
Marcia Griffiths,
This Heat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Görl,
Sandy B,
Skarface,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amazonics,
Siglo XX,
Basic Channel,
The Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Malaria!,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Knickerbockers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.