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 Dominica and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar 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 Kayak to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Fugazi,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The J.B.'s,
Ultravox,
H. Thieme,
The Cramps,
Subhumans,
The Kinks,
The Five Americans,
EPMD,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hashim,
Bad Manners,
Derrick May,
Icehouse,
Little Man,
Rites of Spring,
The Mojo Men,
Accadde A,
Shuggie Otis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Names,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fall,
Malaria!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Harry Pussy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ice-T,
Ornette Coleman,
Mark Hollis,
The Move,
Pole,
UT,
Tomorrow,
Ludus,
Magazine,
Circle Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
Maurizio,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Knickerbockers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dave Gahan,
Fat Boys,
Mantronix,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun City Girls,
Roxette,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Index,
The Fire Engines,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Sherman,
Idris Muhammad,
Young Marble Giants,
Aaron Thompson,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.