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 Libya and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Flamin' Groovies to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Green,
Bobby Womack,
Fat Boys,
Black Moon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fatback Band,
Warren Ellis,
Banda Bassotti,
Scientists,
Funkadelic,
Lou Christie,
Blancmange,
The Associates,
The American Breed,
F. McDonald,
Excepter,
the Human League,
Henry Cow,
Can,
Freddie Wadling,
Thompson Twins,
Crooked Eye,
Tubeway Army,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Infiniti,
Suburban Knight,
Vladislav Delay,
Chrome,
Robert Görl,
Sun Ra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joe Smooth,
E-Dancer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Flamin' Groovies,
Index,
Radiohead,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Intrusion,
Surgeon,
The Offenders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
ABC,
Flash Fearless,
John Lydon,
The Neon Judgement,
Negative Approach,
the Soft Cell,
Bluetip,
Dark Day,
Porter Ricks,
The Blues Magoos,
Q and Not U,
Heaven 17,
48th St. Collective,
Liliput,
Scrapy,
Black Bananas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.