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 Yemen and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Cell to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Pantytec,
Harpers Bizarre,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kaleidoscope,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arcadia,
Grauzone,
Popol Vuh,
Cal Tjader,
Angry Samoans,
The Red Krayola,
The Stooges,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lucky Dragons,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fortunes,
Susan Cadogan,
Procol Harum,
Charles Mingus,
Saccharine Trust,
Qualms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Little Man,
The Smiths,
Deadbeat,
Jacob Miller,
EPMD,
Suicide,
Rapeman,
The Names,
Stiv Bators,
Agent Orange,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Parry Music,
Radiohead,
U.S. Maple,
The Skatalites,
The Selecter,
The Remains,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Buzzcocks,
X-102,
Bob Dylan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Animal Collective,
Crash Course in Science,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sun City Girls,
DJ Style,
Slave,
Public Enemy,
Anthony Braxton,
Fad Gadget,
The Mummies,
Dead Boys,
Minor Threat,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.