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 Malaysia 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Jacob Miller,
The Cosmic Jokers,
B.T. Express,
The Pop Group,
Roxy Music,
The Residents,
Bill Near,
Henry Cow,
Ituana,
Sonny Sharrock,
Von Mondo,
Skriet,
Dead Boys,
Talk Talk,
The Fire Engines,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cramps,
Anthony Braxton,
Warren Ellis,
Aaron Thompson,
Leonard Cohen,
Can,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pet Shop Boys,
Alton Ellis,
Trumans Water,
Maurizio,
the Bar-Kays,
Popol Vuh,
Amon Düül,
The Grass Roots,
Moss Icon,
Gang Green,
Harmonia,
Con Funk Shun,
The Knickerbockers,
Barrington Levy,
Simply Red,
Ronan,
Byron Stingily,
Au Pairs,
The Young Rascals,
Rapeman,
Boz Scaggs,
The Neon Judgement,
Sixth Finger,
Moebius,
Cameo,
Monolake,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Evens,
Jimmy McGriff,
Derrick May,
Zapp,
Jawbox,
The Fuzztones,
Steve Hackett,
Gang of Four,
Scan 7,
Roxette,
Amazonics,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.