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 Tanzania and from Milan.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Country Teasers,
Matthew Bourne,
Niagra,
Ludus,
Y Pants,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Last Poets,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rakim,
The Durutti Column,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flash Fearless,
Eddi Front,
Max Romeo,
JFA,
Black Pus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Arcadia,
The Associates,
Tommy Roe,
Sister Nancy,
Ten City,
Au Pairs,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brand Nubian,
Alphaville,
Heaven 17,
Pantaleimon,
Eric Copeland,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roy Ayers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Vladislav Delay,
Babytalk,
The Barracudas,
Siglo XX,
MC5,
Essential Logic,
Swell Maps,
The New Christs,
The Golliwogs,
The Moody Blues,
Bob Dylan,
Supertramp,
Kaleidoscope,
Fluxion,
Rotary Connection,
Surgeon,
The American Breed,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marmalade,
Popol Vuh,
Porter Ricks,
Ohio Players,
The Techniques,
The Young Rascals,
Massinfluence,
Rosa Yemen,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.