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 United Kingdom and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Byron Stingily 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
The Golliwogs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deadbeat,
Underground Resistance,
Albert Ayler,
Bad Manners,
Gichy Dan,
One Last Wish,
Warren Ellis,
Ken Boothe,
David McCallum,
Mantronix,
Radiopuhelimet,
Buzzcocks,
PIL,
Q65,
The Associates,
Kenny Larkin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mark Hollis,
Desert Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
Traffic Nightmare,
Con Funk Shun,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joe Smooth,
The Evens,
The Beau Brummels,
KRS-One,
Loose Ends,
La Düsseldorf,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Anakelly,
Patti Smith,
Morten Harket,
The Human League,
Quando Quango,
Mary Jane Girls,
kango's stein massive,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythm & Sound,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
New York Dolls,
Bill Wells,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Soft Cell,
Stetsasonic,
Tres Demented,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cramps,
Mr. Review,
Monks,
Hot Snakes,
Piero Umiliani,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.