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 Eritrea and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet 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 John Holt to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pole,
Brick,
Bush Tetras,
the Human League,
Max Romeo,
Wasted Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flash Fearless,
The Monochrome Set,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Matthew Bourne,
Boredoms,
10cc,
Darondo,
The Young Rascals,
The Raincoats,
Fat Boys,
The Seeds,
Wire,
David Bowie,
The Motions,
Pylon,
The Fuzztones,
In Retrospect,
Robert Görl,
Cybotron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scrapy,
Aswad,
Roxette,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Archie Shepp,
Reuben Wilson,
Joey Negro,
Albert Ayler,
the Germs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nik Kershaw,
Severed Heads,
The Velvet Underground,
The Martian,
The Cowsills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hashim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lucky Dragons,
Index,
The Techniques,
Eric Dolphy,
New Order,
Freddie Wadling,
Radiopuhelimet,
Maleditus Sound,
Althea and Donna,
Adolescents,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.