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 Tuvalu and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Letta Mbulu to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tears for Fears,
Dawn Penn,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Connie Case,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Byrd,
Bill Near,
The Move,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eve St. Jones,
Tommy Roe,
Kas Product,
Average White Band,
The Busters,
Dead Boys,
Blancmange,
H. Thieme,
Max Romeo,
KRS-One,
Babytalk,
Crispian St. Peters,
June Days,
Bobby Womack,
The Fall,
Liliput,
Rosa Yemen,
Barbara Tucker,
Freddie Wadling,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maleditus Sound,
F. McDonald,
Agent Orange,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Graham Central Station,
Livin' Joy,
Bootsy Collins,
Dorothy Ashby,
James White and The Blacks,
The Pretty Things,
Jawbox,
Bizarre Inc.,
Howard Jones,
Blake Baxter,
Talk Talk,
the Bar-Kays,
The Beau Brummels,
Fugazi,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Echospace,
Visage,
Patti Smith,
Erykah Badu,
Hashim,
Nick Fraelich,
Clear Light,
Lindisfarne,
New Age Steppers,
Henry Cow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Au Pairs,
Joey Negro,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.