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 Philippines and from London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marc Almond to the grunge 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Whodini,
Eddi Front,
The Smoke,
Pantaleimon,
Bronski Beat,
John Coltrane,
Iggy Pop,
Tubeway Army,
Kenny Larkin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Todd Rundgren,
Pierre Henry,
Joensuu 1685,
Scientists,
The Evens,
Max Romeo,
PIL,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kool Moe Dee,
KRS-One,
Patti Smith,
Joe Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bauhaus,
Grey Daturas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eric Copeland,
Technova,
Barrington Levy,
Mission of Burma,
Suburban Knight,
Television Personalities,
Harry Pussy,
Jandek,
JFA,
Judy Mowatt,
The New Christs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Johnny Clarke,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Section 25,
Cal Tjader,
Alphaville,
Flamin' Groovies,
AZ,
John Holt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
The Black Dice,
Marmalade,
The Mojo Men,
Second Layer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
a-ha,
Faust,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.