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 Bulgaria and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Evens to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Ohio Players,
David Bowie,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott Heron,
China Crisis,
Andrew Hill,
Colin Newman,
Don Cherry,
Althea and Donna,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erasure,
The Grass Roots,
Masters at Work,
Monks,
Los Fastidios,
Hot Snakes,
Spandau Ballet,
Jacques Brel,
Skarface,
Deakin,
Visage,
Blossom Toes,
Morten Harket,
DNA,
Pierre Henry,
Mantronix,
Section 25,
Unwound,
Jawbox,
Swell Maps,
Black Bananas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Boredoms,
Slick Rick,
Grauzone,
Scan 7,
Con Funk Shun,
Sixth Finger,
Howard Jones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shuggie Otis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blancmange,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Slave,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Saints,
The Remains,
Popol Vuh,
U.S. Maple,
Fela Kuti,
DJ Sneak,
Index,
The Slackers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Quadrant,
The Red Krayola,
Young Marble Giants,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.