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 Zambia and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Morten Harket 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Mark Hollis,
Schoolly D,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Green,
Lou Christie,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scratch Acid,
Rod Modell,
Mars,
Susan Cadogan,
Rapeman,
Japan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joyce Sims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dead Boys,
Dennis Brown,
Sex Pistols,
MC5,
Symarip,
Derrick May,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Warren Ellis,
Aaron Thompson,
Brick,
Index,
DJ Sneak,
The Names,
Gang Starr,
The Blues Magoos,
The United States of America,
June of 44,
Roger Hodgson,
Chrome,
Harmonia,
Intrusion,
Chris & Cosey,
Con Funk Shun,
The Remains,
Pharoah Sanders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Saints,
Moss Icon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barry Ungar,
Black Bananas,
Masters at Work,
Little Man,
Anakelly,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alison Limerick,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dave Gahan,
Kaleidoscope,
Popol Vuh,
Qualms,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.