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 Bahamas and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the funk 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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Model 500,
Boz Scaggs,
Derrick May,
Toni Rubio,
Susan Cadogan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eurythmics,
The Remains,
The Smiths,
Liliput,
The United States of America,
Sister Nancy,
Johnny Clarke,
Index,
Mark Hollis,
The Dead C,
Graham Central Station,
Peter and Kerry,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Average White Band,
These Immortal Souls,
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alphaville,
DJ Style,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlback,
Letta Mbulu,
Wire,
Gang Starr,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers,
Drive Like Jehu,
UT,
Section 25,
Bobby Byrd,
Nils Olav,
ABC,
Rufus Thomas,
Scratch Acid,
Man Parrish,
Robert Wyatt,
The Zeros,
The Busters,
Desert Stars,
K-Klass,
Tomorrow,
Lyres,
John Foxx,
Deakin,
the Normal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Y Pants,
Sonic Youth,
The Black Dice,
Fatback Band,
Sight & Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.