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 Swaziland and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 New Age Steppers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Josef K,
Bobby Sherman,
Depeche Mode,
Slick Rick,
Marshall Jefferson,
Quando Quango,
The Neon Judgement,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Thompson Twins,
Animal Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Babytalk,
Siglo XX,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Public Enemy,
The Fall,
Talk Talk,
Minny Pops,
Jeff Lynne,
Ponytail,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lucky Dragons,
Porter Ricks,
X-101,
Monolake,
The Cowsills,
Arab on Radar,
Essential Logic,
Zero Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Index,
Hardrive,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Michelle Simonal,
Electric Prunes,
Scrapy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barbara Tucker,
Sixth Finger,
Japan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Letta Mbulu,
Cluster,
Heaven 17,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wire,
Arcadia,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gories,
Dead Boys,
Audionom,
The Busters,
Amazonics,
The Raincoats,
The Smiths,
The Buckinghams,
Flash Fearless,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.