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 Tanzania and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
One Last Wish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rites of Spring,
Scratch Acid,
Derrick Morgan,
Rapeman,
F. McDonald,
Boredoms,
Roxy Music,
Andrew Hill,
Bluetip,
The Litter,
Drexciya,
Kayak,
Amon Düül II,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry's Kids,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DNA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Subhumans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marmalade,
Lucky Dragons,
Minny Pops,
Cymande,
Electric Prunes,
Popol Vuh,
The Grass Roots,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funky Four + One,
Interpol,
Neil Young,
Sister Nancy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pere Ubu,
David Axelrod,
The Count Five,
Laurel Aitken,
Reuben Wilson,
Toni Rubio,
Althea and Donna,
La Düsseldorf,
Section 25,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tres Demented,
Oblivians,
Theoretical Girls,
Trumans Water,
a-ha,
MC5,
Black Pus,
Susan Cadogan,
Hardrive,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
T. Rex,
Technova,
Chris & Cosey,
Cluster,
Ice-T,
Audionom,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.