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 Bulgaria and from Tehran.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Chrome to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
OOIOO,
Von Mondo,
Bill Wells,
Niagra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sarah Menescal,
Amazonics,
Fugazi,
Silicon Teens,
Monolake,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Girls At Our Best!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siglo XX,
Eric B and Rakim,
Excepter,
The Smiths,
The Slackers,
Pere Ubu,
Henry Cow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Buzzcocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Popol Vuh,
B.T. Express,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Carl Craig,
The Pretty Things,
U.S. Maple,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Hot Snakes,
Eric Dolphy,
Reagan Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
Roy Ayers,
Audionom,
Barbara Tucker,
Stiv Bators,
D'Angelo,
Blake Baxter,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
Aswad,
Don Cherry,
The Dirtbombs,
Rapeman,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Hood,
The Beau Brummels,
Isaac Hayes,
The Young Rascals,
Boredoms,
Radiohead,
Television Personalities,
Erykah Badu,
Michelle Simonal,
Davy DMX,
Lindisfarne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Severed Heads,
Chrome,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.