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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro 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 Silicon Teens to the rock 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Ituana,
The Angels of Light,
Ten City,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Duran Duran,
The Misunderstood,
The Toasters,
The J.B.'s,
Rufus Thomas,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pylon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Archie Shepp,
Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Organ,
Ohio Players,
Fatback Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Hood,
Skarface,
The Saints,
Visage,
The Trojans,
X-101,
The Standells,
The Moleskins,
Wolf Eyes,
Pantytec,
The American Breed,
Half Japanese,
Robert Görl,
Neil Young,
MDC,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yusef Lateef,
Darondo,
The Real Kids,
Simply Red,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sexual Harrassment,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deepchord,
Circle Jerks,
Juan Atkins,
The Stooges,
Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
Boredoms,
Letta Mbulu,
John Cale,
Connie Case,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.