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 Nigeria and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Ken Boothe,
The Residents,
Silicon Teens,
MDC,
Kaleidoscope,
Hot Snakes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Masters at Work,
Freddie Wadling,
Dead Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Altered Images,
Popol Vuh,
The Invisible,
Scott Walker,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Holt,
The Count Five,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Section 25,
Magazine,
Electric Prunes,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Green,
Janne Schatter,
T. Rex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
La Düsseldorf,
Alison Limerick,
The Move,
The Monks,
ABC,
The Dirtbombs,
John Foxx,
The Walker Brothers,
Cymande,
R.M.O.,
The Leaves,
Faust,
Fugazi,
The Beau Brummels,
The Skatalites,
Saccharine Trust,
The Gories,
Eric Dolphy,
Alton Ellis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nils Olav,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boredoms,
Bill Wells,
The Martian,
Public Enemy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Black Dice,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Chrome,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.