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 Micronesia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Model 500 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Iggy Pop,
Altered Images,
MC5,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ludus,
Ken Boothe,
Matthew Halsall,
Wally Richardson,
Sandy B,
Deadbeat,
The Litter,
Lee Hazlewood,
Zapp,
Quadrant,
Freddie Wadling,
Lindisfarne,
The Seeds,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Accadde A,
Gabor Szabo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yaz,
X-101,
Aural Exciters,
The Walker Brothers,
the Swans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Don Cherry,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Smiths,
Popol Vuh,
Marcia Griffiths,
Reuben Wilson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Saints,
K-Klass,
Marvin Gaye,
Quantec,
Brand Nubian,
Fugazi,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Human League,
The Star Department,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Wyatt,
the Soft Cell,
Crooked Eye,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Music Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
Pylon,
The Doors,
Joe Smooth,
Index,
David McCallum,
Colin Newman,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.