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 Czech Republic and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dead Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Wolf Eyes,
Freddie Wadling,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Womack,
Lakeside,
Surgeon,
Warsaw,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brass Construction,
Bauhaus,
Thompson Twins,
The Associates,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
A Certain Ratio,
Easy Going,
OOIOO,
The Fuzztones,
The Music Machine,
Charles Mingus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arab on Radar,
Barry Ungar,
The Neon Judgement,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Rotary Connection,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ultravox,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Make Up,
The Five Americans,
Terry Callier,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Whodini,
B.T. Express,
Hasil Adkins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Hood,
Nils Olav,
David Bowie,
June of 44,
the Normal,
Piero Umiliani,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Selecter,
Vainqueur,
June Days,
Accadde A,
Sparks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deadbeat,
Black Moon,
Rod Modell,
Pere Ubu,
Yazoo,
Mandrill,
Derrick Morgan,
Fatback Band,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.