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 Australia and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Oblivians to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
Byron Stingily,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crash Course in Science,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DJ Sneak,
Fluxion,
Underground Resistance,
H. Thieme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Easy Going,
Chris Corsano,
Bush Tetras,
Clear Light,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Vainqueur,
Shuggie Otis,
Rites of Spring,
The Knickerbockers,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mojo Men,
Swans,
These Immortal Souls,
Sister Nancy,
Accadde A,
The Wake,
Erasure,
Stereo Dub,
Soft Cell,
Marvin Gaye,
Eden Ahbez,
Soft Machine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Camouflage,
Electric Prunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bob Dylan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Malaria!,
John Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
the Association,
ABC,
Nico,
Max Romeo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Average White Band,
The Offenders,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blancmange,
Au Pairs,
Donny Hathaway,
Radiohead,
The Searchers,
Pussy Galore,
Kurtis Blow,
Masters at Work,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.