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 Saudi Arabia and from Beijing.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pylon to the dance 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Y Pants,
Pantytec,
Cecil Taylor,
Masters at Work,
Lakeside,
Marcia Griffiths,
a-ha,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Outsiders,
Ludus,
Reuben Wilson,
K-Klass,
Sly & The Family Stone,
James White and The Blacks,
Wire,
Roger Hodgson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Al Stewart,
Yaz,
CMW,
Aloha Tigers,
Yazoo,
Rufus Thomas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Warren Ellis,
Lalann,
Boredoms,
Lindisfarne,
The Moleskins,
The Slackers,
The Tremeloes,
The Blues Magoos,
Morten Harket,
Trumans Water,
Glenn Branca,
Khruangbin,
Danielle Patucci,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Faust,
Hardrive,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
F. McDonald,
The Evens,
FM Einheit,
Iggy Pop,
Rosa Yemen,
Jawbox,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeff Mills,
Funkadelic,
The Pop Group,
Derrick May,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
David Bowie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Section 25,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.