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 Pakistan and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Fire Engines to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Oneida,
Michelle Simonal,
Das Ding,
Q and Not U,
Patti Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mummies,
Al Stewart,
Underground Resistance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sandy B,
Shuggie Otis,
The Moleskins,
Bill Near,
Carl Craig,
Amazonics,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fluxion,
Johnny Osbourne,
Buzzcocks,
Minutemen,
E-Dancer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Laurel Aitken,
Mission of Burma,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Walker Brothers,
Dawn Penn,
The Fugs,
Erasure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sex Pistols,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hot Snakes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Vogues,
New Order,
Country Teasers,
Wally Richardson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Royal Trux,
The Martian,
Bobby Womack,
Soul Sonic Force,
Derrick Morgan,
Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
Derrick May,
Popol Vuh,
The Evens,
Panda Bear,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Grass Roots,
The Blackbyrds,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.