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 Poland and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Underground Resistance to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
The Last Poets,
Nico,
Vainqueur,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minor Threat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roxy Music,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Thee Headcoats,
Laurel Aitken,
LL Cool J,
B.T. Express,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Stooges,
Malaria!,
Index,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roy Ayers,
Black Bananas,
Wally Richardson,
ABC,
Sun City Girls,
The Fall,
Pierre Henry,
Pantaleimon,
Q and Not U,
This Heat,
Minnie Riperton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cramps,
John Foxx,
The Electric Prunes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Essential Logic,
Mars,
The Motions,
Ten City,
Joe Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Faraquet,
Todd Rundgren,
The Names,
John Coltrane,
Henry Cow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Anakelly,
Harry Pussy,
Minny Pops,
MDC,
Funkadelic,
The Smoke,
New Order,
Glambeats Corp.,
Erasure,
The Fortunes,
Slave,
Wolf Eyes,
Ohio Players,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.