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 Mongolia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ultra Naté to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gong,
Soul Sonic Force,
Magazine,
Unrelated Segments,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harry Pussy,
Alison Limerick,
Iggy Pop,
Cecil Taylor,
Brand Nubian,
Scion,
The Busters,
Visage,
Stetsasonic,
Inner City,
The Index,
The Sonics,
Massinfluence,
Neil Young,
Swans,
Slick Rick,
Isaac Hayes,
The Durutti Column,
Half Japanese,
Japan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ossler,
Zapp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Christie,
La Düsseldorf,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Monolake,
Infiniti,
Malaria!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
New Order,
The Vogues,
Jacques Brel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pulsallama,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deepchord,
The Seeds,
K-Klass,
The Cowsills,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grauzone,
Mo-Dettes,
Gichy Dan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Amon Düül II,
Public Image Ltd.,
F. McDonald,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Byrd,
Ornette Coleman,
Junior Murvin,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.