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 Kiribati and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 the Sonics to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Hoover,
Agent Orange,
Robert Wyatt,
Man Parrish,
Duran Duran,
Max Romeo,
Heaven 17,
Essential Logic,
The Invisible,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sex Pistols,
The Blues Magoos,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Das Ding,
The Offenders,
Bluetip,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cybotron,
The Slits,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fortunes,
Clear Light,
Patti Smith,
The Gladiators,
Circle Jerks,
Arcadia,
Lebanon Hanover,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Evens,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rod Modell,
Black Sheep,
CMW,
The Grass Roots,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Metal Thangz,
Gichy Dan,
Johnny Clarke,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Fania All-Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ohio Players,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Erasure,
Can,
Crash Course in Science,
The Motions,
Todd Terry,
Donald Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moody Blues,
Brick,
The Selecter,
David Axelrod,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jacques Brel,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.