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 San Marino and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 Stockholm Monsters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Womack,
Groovy Waters,
Brass Construction,
Cameo,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gladiators,
Dead Boys,
The Fall,
UT,
Juan Atkins,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Human League,
Deepchord,
The Grass Roots,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barclay James Harvest,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick May,
Camouflage,
Idris Muhammad,
Scratch Acid,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Bowie,
Buzzcocks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Durutti Column,
Stiv Bators,
Can,
Harry Pussy,
The Happenings,
The Dave Clark Five,
Faust,
The Fugs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
Albert Ayler,
Joy Division,
Bobby Sherman,
Faraquet,
Henry Cow,
Ornette Coleman,
New Order,
Spoonie Gee,
Lungfish,
Tom Boy,
Marvin Gaye,
Piero Umiliani,
Electric Prunes,
Michelle Simonal,
ABBA,
Dark Day,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
CMW,
PIL,
Dave Gahan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Model 500,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.