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 Romania and from Manchester.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tremeloes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Deepchord,
The Music Machine,
Public Enemy,
Susan Cadogan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pantaleimon,
Urselle,
48th St. Collective,
ABBA,
The Cramps,
Kurtis Blow,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Slits,
Los Fastidios,
Qualms,
The Techniques,
Black Bananas,
Section 25,
The Mojo Men,
Hashim,
kango's stein massive,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aural Exciters,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
KRS-One,
Reuben Wilson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Groovy Waters,
Mr. Review,
Erasure,
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siglo XX,
Livin' Joy,
Wasted Youth,
Michelle Simonal,
Neu!,
JFA,
The Dead C,
Basic Channel,
Ronan,
The Pop Group,
Kenny Larkin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Negative Approach,
Vainqueur,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DNA,
Judy Mowatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Christie,
Pussy Galore,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Banda Bassotti,
Wally Richardson,
Sam Rivers,
Metal Thangz,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.