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 Norway 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angry Samoans to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Gichy Dan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fad Gadget,
Pussy Galore,
Lebanon Hanover,
Yellowson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shuggie Otis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The J.B.'s,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
a-ha,
Graham Central Station,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Popol Vuh,
Los Fastidios,
DJ Style,
Minutemen,
Wire,
Nico,
Cheater Slicks,
The Raincoats,
The Residents,
Steve Hackett,
Todd Rundgren,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Red Krayola,
Alison Limerick,
Deakin,
Tomorrow,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Durutti Column,
Roy Ayers,
The Slackers,
The Mojo Men,
Barrington Levy,
the Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
The Techniques,
Eric Copeland,
The Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
Roger Hodgson,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nation of Ulysses,
Urselle,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kerri Chandler,
Jeff Lynne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fugs,
Tres Demented,
Lou Christie,
The Divine Comedy,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.