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 Albania and from Spokane.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Foxx to the grunge 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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Dead Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Hot Snakes,
Blancmange,
Livin' Joy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Byrd,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Electric Prunes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Magazine,
Joey Negro,
Minnie Riperton,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Buckinghams,
DJ Style,
Mission of Burma,
Radiopuhelimet,
Royal Trux,
Lebanon Hanover,
Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scion,
John Lydon,
the Normal,
FM Einheit,
Lee Hazlewood,
Derrick Morgan,
Dennis Brown,
The Red Krayola,
Drive Like Jehu,
Popol Vuh,
Nik Kershaw,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Piero Umiliani,
Nick Fraelich,
Urselle,
Bang On A Can,
Shoche,
Josef K,
Average White Band,
John Foxx,
John Coltrane,
The Modern Lovers,
Model 500,
Harmonia,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Vogues,
Talk Talk,
the Swans,
Laurel Aitken,
Radiohead,
Silicon Teens,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marvin Gaye,
ABC,
Accadde A,
Bobby Womack,
The Motions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.