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 Estonia and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Toronto.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cymande to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Sheep,
Hasil Adkins,
New Order,
The American Breed,
Arcadia,
A Certain Ratio,
Tres Demented,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pussy Galore,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-Ray Spex,
T. Rex,
The Litter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dave Clark Five,
Parry Music,
Talk Talk,
The Beau Brummels,
Alton Ellis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Frankie Knuckles,
Patti Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fugazi,
Freddie Wadling,
The Techniques,
Model 500,
Don Cherry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Main Source,
Flash Fearless,
The Residents,
Soft Cell,
Derrick May,
Sam Rivers,
Warren Ellis,
Grauzone,
The Stooges,
Hot Snakes,
Eden Ahbez,
The Slits,
Minny Pops,
The Birthday Party,
Royal Trux,
Andrew Hill,
Trumans Water,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Reuben Wilson,
Maleditus Sound,
David Bowie,
The Fire Engines,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Johnny Clarke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang Starr,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.