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 Mauritius and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lungfish to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Slave,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Au Pairs,
Desert Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gories,
Barbara Tucker,
Sarah Menescal,
Jandek,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wally Richardson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kayak,
Flipper,
Absolute Body Control,
Lightning Bolt,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rapeman,
Lyres,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quando Quango,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter and Kerry,
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Essential Logic,
Ken Boothe,
the Slits,
The Searchers,
Neil Young,
Dead Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Bar-Kays,
One Last Wish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy Collins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlback,
Infiniti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Little Man,
Blancmange,
Moebius,
Connie Case,
Cybotron,
Inner City,
Suicide,
Radio Birdman,
Unwound,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soulsonic Force,
Blossom Toes,
The Selecter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gichy Dan,
Das Ding,
The Index,
Lindisfarne,
The Monks,
The Blackbyrds,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.