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 Syria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Erasure to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Skaos,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
The Kinks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amon Düül,
JFA,
Maleditus Sound,
Fluxion,
Television Personalities,
Excepter,
Janne Schatter,
Black Bananas,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Cell,
Gerry Rafferty,
In Retrospect,
The Trojans,
This Heat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Doobie Brothers,
Q and Not U,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Reagan Youth,
The Invisible,
Minny Pops,
Depeche Mode,
Jandek,
Derrick Morgan,
Skarface,
UT,
Ultravox,
Dennis Brown,
John Lydon,
Ohio Players,
Audionom,
Blancmange,
The Durutti Column,
Brick,
Half Japanese,
Rod Modell,
Public Enemy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Red Krayola,
Popol Vuh,
Radio Birdman,
Delta 5,
Sun Ra,
Qualms,
The Searchers,
Robert Hood,
Malaria!,
Swans,
Terry Callier,
L. Decosne,
Warsaw,
Severed Heads,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.