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 Thailand and from Jakarta.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Excepter to the jazz 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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
The Mummies,
EPMD,
Liliput,
Aloha Tigers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Litter,
Judy Mowatt,
The Durutti Column,
Excepter,
The Happenings,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Swans,
Robert Görl,
The Selecter,
Pere Ubu,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Wake,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joey Negro,
The Fire Engines,
UT,
Goldenarms,
Henry Cow,
Guru Guru,
The Music Machine,
Motorama,
Andrew Hill,
Underground Resistance,
Kaleidoscope,
Camberwell Now,
Reuben Wilson,
Yaz,
Jandek,
The Raincoats,
Crime,
Minny Pops,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Skatalites,
Sällskapet,
Rufus Thomas,
Pantaleimon,
ABC,
Radiohead,
Kerri Chandler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crooked Eye,
The Smoke,
Dead Boys,
Public Enemy,
Carl Craig,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wire,
Hashim,
Archie Shepp,
the Slits,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.