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 London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro 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 Harry Pussy to the rock 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Blake Baxter,
Newcleus,
Audionom,
Neu!,
Jimmy McGriff,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
MC5,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Skatalites,
The Names,
Masters at Work,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
This Heat,
Angry Samoans,
Mantronix,
Minnie Riperton,
Letta Mbulu,
Talk Talk,
Cameo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Leonard Cohen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Shuggie Otis,
Television Personalities,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mary Jane Girls,
OOIOO,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ronan,
Roger Hodgson,
Kerri Chandler,
Sparks,
Bill Wells,
Drexciya,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Make Up,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Jacques Brel,
Todd Rundgren,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dave Gahan,
L. Decosne,
Maleditus Sound,
Chrome,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sugar Minott,
Minor Threat,
Radiohead,
Nik Kershaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
Toni Rubio,
Parry Music,
Erasure,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fela Kuti,
John Holt,
Althea and Donna,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.