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 Tajikistan and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 AZ to the grime 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Sonics,
DJ Sneak,
Vainqueur,
Qualms,
Bad Manners,
Danielle Patucci,
Con Funk Shun,
Sister Nancy,
Bauhaus,
The Modern Lovers,
The Stooges,
Crooked Eye,
Ultravox,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quantec,
Barry Ungar,
Hashim,
Spoonie Gee,
The Moleskins,
Erasure,
The Tremeloes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Buckinghams,
Sam Rivers,
The Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gladiators,
The Gories,
Prince Buster,
DNA,
Accadde A,
Sun Ra,
Glenn Branca,
Guru Guru,
The Durutti Column,
Terrestrial Tones,
Silicon Teens,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Visage,
John Holt,
Spandau Ballet,
Andrew Hill,
Tom Boy,
Sex Pistols,
The Kinks,
Swell Maps,
Brothers Johnson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dead Boys,
Cameo,
The Birthday Party,
Suicide,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.