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 Cuba and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 The Barracudas to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Terry,
Main Source,
Dawn Penn,
The Moleskins,
The Seeds,
Echospace,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kas Product,
Underground Resistance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Howard Jones,
the Association,
David McCallum,
China Crisis,
Boredoms,
New Age Steppers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Absolute Body Control,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gladiators,
Simply Red,
The Fire Engines,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
Hashim,
Procol Harum,
The Kinks,
Clear Light,
The Count Five,
The Slits,
Talk Talk,
Tomorrow,
Section 25,
Sandy B,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Sonics,
Skarface,
Anthony Braxton,
Radio Birdman,
Dead Boys,
The J.B.'s,
Minnie Riperton,
Bronski Beat,
Parry Music,
Fear,
the Germs,
Franke,
Eden Ahbez,
Judy Mowatt,
Monks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Slits,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ronnie Foster,
The Monks,
cv313,
John Lydon,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.