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 Djibouti and from Columbus.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Freddie Wadling to the punk 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Wolf Eyes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Wyatt,
The Divine Comedy,
Blake Baxter,
Mission of Burma,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Pus,
T. Rex,
Pole,
New Order,
Reuben Wilson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cure,
Nirvana,
Piero Umiliani,
Sound Behaviour,
Deadbeat,
The Golliwogs,
Joe Smooth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Anakelly,
The Invisible,
Funky Four + One,
Arthur Verocai,
The Offenders,
Camouflage,
Nico,
MC5,
Y Pants,
Blossom Toes,
Franke,
Lungfish,
Roy Ayers,
One Last Wish,
Loose Ends,
Alton Ellis,
Sällskapet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scion,
Depeche Mode,
Yaz,
The Angels of Light,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joey Negro,
Agitation Free,
Maleditus Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Almond,
The Vogues,
Arcadia,
Andrew Hill,
Los Fastidios,
Terrestrial Tones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Basic Channel,
Terry Callier,
Pantytec,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.