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 Eritrea and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 The Knickerbockers to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
the Germs,
Sex Pistols,
FM Einheit,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dual Sessions,
Delon & Dalcan,
Interpol,
Suicide,
Jandek,
Duran Duran,
Drive Like Jehu,
Excepter,
Lebanon Hanover,
David McCallum,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Visage,
Agent Orange,
Fatback Band,
The Star Department,
Junior Murvin,
Amazonics,
Marmalade,
Michelle Simonal,
Reuben Wilson,
Procol Harum,
Lindisfarne,
Wally Richardson,
Gichy Dan,
Bob Dylan,
The Sonics,
Barry Ungar,
Agitation Free,
Sällskapet,
The Victims,
Carl Craig,
Unrelated Segments,
Bobby Sherman,
Leonard Cohen,
Skriet,
Jacques Brel,
Severed Heads,
Public Enemy,
Intrusion,
10cc,
The Detroit Cobras,
Slave,
Ludus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Smiths,
Thompson Twins,
Faust,
Simply Red,
Lalann,
Guru Guru,
Warsaw,
Wings,
These Immortal Souls,
Henry Cow,
K-Klass,
Yellowson,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.