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 Moldova 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pere Ubu to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The Evens,
The Beau Brummels,
H. Thieme,
Rosa Yemen,
Kerrie Biddell,
Graham Central Station,
Angry Samoans,
The J.B.'s,
Kerri Chandler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bill Wells,
Sun City Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Chris & Cosey,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Black Dice,
Byron Stingily,
Hashim,
Saccharine Trust,
Gichy Dan,
Pantaleimon,
ABC,
Bob Dylan,
Soft Cell,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Byrd,
Rapeman,
Erasure,
Nick Fraelich,
Youth Brigade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Clear Light,
Marshall Jefferson,
Motorama,
Theoretical Girls,
Junior Murvin,
Joey Negro,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Amon Düül II,
DNA,
The Kinks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Swans,
Rakim,
The Offenders,
Au Pairs,
Skarface,
Fat Boys,
The Leaves,
Oblivians,
Intrusion,
Newcleus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Toni Rubio,
Zero Boys,
Jandek,
Black Pus,
Silicon Teens,
Chrome,
OOIOO,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.