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 Albania and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
The Litter,
Minny Pops,
Shuggie Otis,
Monks,
Livin' Joy,
X-101,
the Fania All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Busters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Freddie Wadling,
Desert Stars,
The Happenings,
David Axelrod,
Pagans,
David McCallum,
OOIOO,
Marvin Gaye,
The Vogues,
Skriet,
KRS-One,
Aloha Tigers,
Lungfish,
Blake Baxter,
Cameo,
Adolescents,
Junior Murvin,
Hoover,
Talk Talk,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moss Icon,
T. Rex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Pus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joensuu 1685,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dirtbombs,
Radiohead,
The Smiths,
The Star Department,
Matthew Halsall,
Grey Daturas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
The American Breed,
Stiv Bators,
Lyres,
Supertramp,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sound Behaviour,
Franke,
Saccharine Trust,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.