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 Tajikistan and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris & Cosey,
Roxy Music,
Country Teasers,
Ultra Naté,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Agitation Free,
Ken Boothe,
Roger Hodgson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Graham Central Station,
Skriet,
Quando Quango,
Marcia Griffiths,
Inner City,
Lindisfarne,
The Grass Roots,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ronan,
Robert Wyatt,
Wally Richardson,
Bush Tetras,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare,
Dennis Brown,
Section 25,
Stiv Bators,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Byrd,
Glenn Branca,
Flipper,
Hoover,
Josef K,
the Fania All-Stars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Wake,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Enemy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Swans,
Charles Mingus,
The Cowsills,
The American Breed,
John Lydon,
Aloha Tigers,
MDC,
Flamin' Groovies,
Delta 5,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
DJ Style,
Colin Newman,
The Busters,
Marc Almond,
Arcadia,
Pantaleimon,
Harpers Bizarre,
MC5,
CMW,
Dark Day,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.