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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Youth Brigade to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Harmonia,
Suicide,
Tim Buckley,
Man Parrish,
the Slits,
Index,
Rod Modell,
Wire,
The Smoke,
Little Man,
Cal Tjader,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roxy Music,
The Names,
Darondo,
Goldenarms,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scan 7,
Grey Daturas,
The Angels of Light,
Buzzcocks,
The Moleskins,
Oblivians,
The Music Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fat Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Desert Stars,
Surgeon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ituana,
Grauzone,
a-ha,
The Neon Judgement,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pole,
Pussy Galore,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Section 25,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-Ray Spex,
John Cale,
Massinfluence,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lower 48,
The Tremeloes,
The Count Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amon Düül II,
Y Pants,
Nik Kershaw,
Cameo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.