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 Italy and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Con Funk Shun to the funk 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Lungfish,
Derrick Morgan,
Pussy Galore,
DJ Sneak,
Supertramp,
Vladislav Delay,
Scrapy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Godley & Creme,
Freddie Wadling,
Jawbox,
Crash Course in Science,
Piero Umiliani,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
Junior Murvin,
Deadbeat,
the Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers,
Minutemen,
Aaron Thompson,
Carl Craig,
Alison Limerick,
Rapeman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
Camouflage,
Rufus Thomas,
T. Rex,
Lou Reed,
Darondo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Chris Corsano,
Kurtis Blow,
Chris & Cosey,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
Pole,
Spandau Ballet,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sonic Youth,
The Remains,
Sun Ra,
Swell Maps,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bad Manners,
The Gories,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
New Order,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Slave,
Little Man,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tubeway Army,
Jesper Dahlback,
Yusef Lateef,
The Smiths,
Robert Hood,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.