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 Australia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Stockholm Monsters 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
The Dirtbombs,
Liliput,
The Blues Magoos,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Normal,
The Sound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
David McCallum,
Fad Gadget,
Wally Richardson,
Flipper,
Marc Almond,
Black Sheep,
Livin' Joy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arthur Verocai,
Cameo,
Deepchord,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
48th St. Collective,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Underground Resistance,
Rites of Spring,
Procol Harum,
Yellowson,
Sparks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Negative Approach,
Dead Boys,
UT,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fire Engines,
Swans,
Con Funk Shun,
Severed Heads,
The Fall,
Newcleus,
Scientists,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Sherman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Soft Cell,
Cal Tjader,
Deakin,
Zapp,
Black Bananas,
Drive Like Jehu,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Happenings,
Sight & Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
John Cale,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roy Ayers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Neu!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Youth Brigade,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gap Band,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.