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 Oman and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Michael McDonald 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Anakelly,
Pantytec,
Gastr Del Sol,
Livin' Joy,
Rufus Thomas,
Hashim,
Kayak,
The Pretty Things,
The Modern Lovers,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Residents,
The Fuzztones,
Bob Dylan,
Cheater Slicks,
Alison Limerick,
Country Teasers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eric Dolphy,
Index,
Robert Wyatt,
Electric Prunes,
The J.B.'s,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sonics,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stereo Dub,
Flash Fearless,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Germs,
DJ Sneak,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy Collins,
Animal Collective,
Tom Boy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faraquet,
John Lydon,
The Neon Judgement,
Arab on Radar,
Toni Rubio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lower 48,
The Barracudas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joensuu 1685,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flamin' Groovies,
This Heat,
Basic Channel,
Jeff Lynne,
Deepchord,
Newcleus,
The Electric Prunes,
Josef K,
The Five Americans,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.