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 Germany and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Max Romeo to the funk 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skriet,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Green,
Letta Mbulu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mr. Review,
Shuggie Otis,
Wire,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sight & Sound,
Technova,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Christie,
Fear,
Lou Reed,
The Gap Band,
Toni Rubio,
The Dead C,
Amazonics,
The Monks,
Khruangbin,
Rekid,
Grey Daturas,
Flipper,
The Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Charles Mingus,
Icehouse,
Erykah Badu,
The Offenders,
Eric B and Rakim,
June of 44,
The Selecter,
B.T. Express,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Swans,
Skarface,
Minor Threat,
Godley & Creme,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amon Düül,
Junior Murvin,
Kerri Chandler,
The Cramps,
Ken Boothe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Blossom Toes,
Television Personalities,
Lyres,
Quantec,
Lower 48,
Delta 5,
The Fall,
Kenny Larkin,
Brothers Johnson,
Procol Harum,
Dave Gahan,
Simply Red,
Main Source,
The Invisible,
Agent Orange,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.