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 Togo and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the punk 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bluetip,
Ice-T,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Remains,
The Cure,
Ossler,
H. Thieme,
Crash Course in Science,
Audionom,
New York Dolls,
The Smoke,
Althea and Donna,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Five Americans,
Qualms,
Minny Pops,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Panda Bear,
Minor Threat,
Godley & Creme,
Barrington Levy,
Joe Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Young Rascals,
Tim Buckley,
This Heat,
Scion,
Hashim,
Iggy Pop,
Boogie Down Productions,
X-Ray Spex,
The Knickerbockers,
Albert Ayler,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Faraquet,
Surgeon,
Q and Not U,
Erykah Badu,
Joy Division,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Derrick May,
Skaos,
One Last Wish,
Bush Tetras,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Divine Comedy,
Maurizio,
Darondo,
Letta Mbulu,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Wyatt,
The Invisible,
Television Personalities,
Joensuu 1685,
Max Romeo,
Lyres,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.