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 Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 T.S.O.L. to the rock 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skarface,
Cecil Taylor,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
OOIOO,
The Litter,
Adolescents,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gladiators,
The Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Moon,
World's Most,
Derrick May,
One Last Wish,
The Electric Prunes,
Crime,
Hot Snakes,
John Lydon,
The Blues Magoos,
The J.B.'s,
MDC,
Aaron Thompson,
Y Pants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
X-Ray Spex,
Henry Cow,
Brothers Johnson,
Nation of Ulysses,
H. Thieme,
The Grass Roots,
The Flesh Eaters,
Banda Bassotti,
Blancmange,
Barry Ungar,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
T. Rex,
Morten Harket,
Soft Cell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Whodini,
Andrew Hill,
The Move,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Reagan Youth,
Ohio Players,
Franke,
Yazoo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pere Ubu,
The Martian,
Second Layer,
The American Breed,
Lower 48,
Eve St. Jones,
Niagra,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.