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 Greece and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Stockholm Monsters to the disco 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Excepter,
Blancmange,
New Order,
Gong,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skaos,
Soul Sonic Force,
Boz Scaggs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Spoonie Gee,
The Remains,
Niagra,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tears for Fears,
Steve Hackett,
Deadbeat,
Von Mondo,
Slave,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
Althea and Donna,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Divine Comedy,
Brass Construction,
Pharoah Sanders,
This Heat,
Traffic Nightmare,
World's Most,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bootsy Collins,
Essential Logic,
Carl Craig,
The Stooges,
the Swans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
X-102,
James White and The Blacks,
Glenn Branca,
The Names,
Moby Grape,
Cymande,
The Fire Engines,
The Electric Prunes,
Yazoo,
Talk Talk,
Agitation Free,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Al Stewart,
X-101,
The Sound,
Robert Hood,
Heaven 17,
Freddie Wadling,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Graham Central Station,
Curtis Mayfield,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.