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 Malaysia and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The United States of America to the grunge 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
The Monks,
Davy DMX,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lakeside,
Desert Stars,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soulsonic Force,
Tubeway Army,
The Invisible,
The Fuzztones,
Minny Pops,
John Holt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jawbox,
The Cure,
The Sound,
Whodini,
Shuggie Otis,
Cameo,
The Count Five,
Quando Quango,
The Evens,
Arab on Radar,
Scientists,
Maleditus Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Human League,
Suburban Knight,
Soft Machine,
Buzzcocks,
Sex Pistols,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kaleidoscope,
Byron Stingily,
Babytalk,
Franke,
The Smoke,
The Walker Brothers,
Faust,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rufus Thomas,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Fania All-Stars,
Newcleus,
Hashim,
The Buckinghams,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Moody Blues,
China Crisis,
June Days,
Lungfish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ituana,
The Dead C,
Suicide,
The Fire Engines,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.