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 Switzerland and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer 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 Jawbox to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Pole,
Electric Prunes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fugazi,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jawbox,
Piero Umiliani,
Tropical Tobacco,
Man Parrish,
Zero Boys,
Main Source,
Roger Hodgson,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gun Club,
The New Christs,
Niagra,
Don Cherry,
Blake Baxter,
Judy Mowatt,
June Days,
Arcadia,
Traffic Nightmare,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nico,
Maurizio,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Donald Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pylon,
Simply Red,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nik Kershaw,
Supertramp,
48th St. Collective,
The Vogues,
The Gories,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Cale,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry's Kids,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pierre Henry,
Derrick Morgan,
Boredoms,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mo-Dettes,
The Standells,
Leonard Cohen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Public Enemy,
Minny Pops,
Whodini,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Angry Samoans,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.