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 Togo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sister Nancy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
the Human League,
Stetsasonic,
The Red Krayola,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
Bush Tetras,
Liliput,
John Cale,
Sarah Menescal,
Steve Hackett,
Todd Rundgren,
Cabaret Voltaire,
K-Klass,
Massinfluence,
Zapp,
Jacob Miller,
MC5,
The Selecter,
Morten Harket,
Rufus Thomas,
Max Romeo,
Kaleidoscope,
Neil Young,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fela Kuti,
Electric Prunes,
Monolake,
U.S. Maple,
Robert Wyatt,
Eddi Front,
Dead Boys,
the Normal,
Joy Division,
Quando Quango,
Dennis Brown,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kurtis Blow,
This Heat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Matthew Bourne,
The Techniques,
DJ Style,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Underground Resistance,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Livin' Joy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grauzone,
Gastr Del Sol,
Maleditus Sound,
Babytalk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joensuu 1685,
The Wake,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
a-ha,
Soulsonic Force,
Tubeway Army,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dark Day,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.