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 Macedonia and from Stockholm.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Residents to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Second Layer,
Freddie Wadling,
Arthur Verocai,
Ultra Naté,
Whodini,
Agitation Free,
The Moody Blues,
Bootsy Collins,
Soul II Soul,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kaleidoscope,
Can,
Fat Boys,
Pylon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mad Mike,
Moss Icon,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Easy Going,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neu!,
Oneida,
Silicon Teens,
the Fania All-Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Essential Logic,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Little Man,
Motorama,
The Fortunes,
Brothers Johnson,
Kerri Chandler,
Leonard Cohen,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Normal,
Althea and Donna,
Interpol,
Kas Product,
Siglo XX,
The New Christs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sound Behaviour,
Magazine,
Livin' Joy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marcia Griffiths,
Monolake,
The Doobie Brothers,
Metal Thangz,
Maurizio,
The Toasters,
Outsiders,
Surgeon,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang Green,
Minor Threat,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.