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 Luxembourg and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grime 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Don Cherry,
Ponytail,
The Cure,
Boz Scaggs,
Bad Manners,
The Gladiators,
The Durutti Column,
Susan Cadogan,
Minnie Riperton,
L. Decosne,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Standells,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tomorrow,
Symarip,
Blake Baxter,
The Toasters,
Desert Stars,
Make Up,
The American Breed,
The Monks,
Flipper,
Robert Görl,
Derrick Morgan,
A Certain Ratio,
The Golliwogs,
John Holt,
Graham Central Station,
X-Ray Spex,
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
Severed Heads,
In Retrospect,
Moby Grape,
Kool Moe Dee,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tom Boy,
Ludus,
Dead Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lou Christie,
The Vogues,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joe Smooth,
Buzzcocks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Pop Group,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Danielle Patucci,
Spoonie Gee,
Tears for Fears,
Pantytec,
Eurythmics,
Animal Collective,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Urselle,
Das Ding,
Yusef Lateef,
Tres Demented,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.