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 Belarus and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Intrusion to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David Bowie,
Gabor Szabo,
Kaleidoscope,
Khruangbin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Cowsills,
Darondo,
Hasil Adkins,
Pussy Galore,
Goldenarms,
Wasted Youth,
Nils Olav,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gap Band,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
Sixth Finger,
Slick Rick,
Brass Construction,
Newcleus,
Black Flag,
Marmalade,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Reagan Youth,
Graham Central Station,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Flash Fearless,
The Slackers,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bill Wells,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
MDC,
Mandrill,
Hashim,
The Smoke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fall,
Moebius,
The Dead C,
the Bar-Kays,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultravox,
Magma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Donny Hathaway,
Terrestrial Tones,
Youth Brigade,
Wire,
Niagra,
In Retrospect,
The Saints,
The Kinks,
The Moody Blues,
Leonard Cohen,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.