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 Laos and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Monochrome Set to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
World's Most,
Theoretical Girls,
Bad Manners,
H. Thieme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Prince Buster,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dennis Brown,
Althea and Donna,
The Sonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amazonics,
Bauhaus,
Moebius,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fat Boys,
Lyres,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Last Poets,
Man Parrish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Foxx,
Max Romeo,
Jacob Miller,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Metal Thangz,
The Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Stetsasonic,
Wolf Eyes,
Young Marble Giants,
Rotary Connection,
The Fugs,
Mad Mike,
Pussy Galore,
Accadde A,
R.M.O.,
The Standells,
Intrusion,
The Buckinghams,
Nirvana,
Ice-T,
Adolescents,
T. Rex,
Monks,
Swell Maps,
Bill Wells,
Aaron Thompson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barrington Levy,
Johnny Clarke,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Chrome,
Sam Rivers,
Stereo Dub,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.