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 Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 Shoche to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Neon Judgement,
Simply Red,
Jeru the Damaja,
Excepter,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Offenders,
The J.B.'s,
Tres Demented,
Kurtis Blow,
Deepchord,
Charles Mingus,
Echospace,
Scientists,
Theoretical Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fugazi,
The Gap Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Görl,
China Crisis,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Star Department,
Mo-Dettes,
Sandy B,
Can,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
T. Rex,
Nirvana,
The Fuzztones,
Shuggie Otis,
Pierre Henry,
Suburban Knight,
Lungfish,
Albert Ayler,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Womack,
R.M.O.,
The Evens,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Vogues,
Depeche Mode,
Peter and Kerry,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
Juan Atkins,
Ronnie Foster,
June of 44,
Desert Stars,
The Angels of Light,
Black Bananas,
Rakim,
Delta 5,
These Immortal Souls,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric Copeland,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blues Magoos,
Aural Exciters,
Josef K,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.