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 Denmark and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 8 Eyed Spy to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Mo-Dettes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Unrelated Segments,
X-101,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Beau Brummels,
Warsaw,
Blancmange,
The Barracudas,
Ten City,
In Retrospect,
Inner City,
Suburban Knight,
Yusef Lateef,
Judy Mowatt,
B.T. Express,
The Victims,
Roy Ayers,
Scion,
Jerry's Kids,
Brick,
Niagra,
H. Thieme,
A Certain Ratio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jacob Miller,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Wake,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Neu!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nico,
Crash Course in Science,
Al Stewart,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
The Tremeloes,
Barbara Tucker,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Todd Terry,
The New Christs,
Marvin Gaye,
Derrick Morgan,
The J.B.'s,
Monks,
Surgeon,
Black Pus,
Jacques Brel,
Eric Dolphy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lindisfarne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cluster,
Rotary Connection,
ABC,
The Alarm Clocks,
Chris & Cosey,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Angry Samoans,
Man Parrish,
Parry Music,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.