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 Nauru and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Beau Brummels to the electroclash 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Pagans,
Boz Scaggs,
The Names,
Eric Copeland,
the Human League,
The Index,
Arthur Verocai,
The Litter,
The Cramps,
The Music Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aural Exciters,
Andrew Hill,
The Fugs,
Mo-Dettes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Radiohead,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
David Bowie,
Essential Logic,
The Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dark Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ossler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Vogues,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxy Music,
Public Enemy,
The Blues Magoos,
Ponytail,
Sun City Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bronski Beat,
Suburban Knight,
Q65,
Absolute Body Control,
Alison Limerick,
The Doors,
Pole,
Deadbeat,
Rufus Thomas,
The Red Krayola,
Warsaw,
The Misunderstood,
The Move,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magazine,
FM Einheit,
The Kinks,
The Martian,
Max Romeo,
Wally Richardson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Rosa Yemen,
These Immortal Souls,
Slick Rick,
Arab on Radar,
Joyce Sims,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.