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 Cape Verde and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Swans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Scientists,
Au Pairs,
Tubeway Army,
The Cure,
Shuggie Otis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Faust,
China Crisis,
Silicon Teens,
Spoonie Gee,
Curtis Mayfield,
10cc,
Malaria!,
Prince Buster,
the Human League,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Hood,
Public Enemy,
Marvin Gaye,
Ronan,
New Order,
Mo-Dettes,
Marmalade,
The Offenders,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Toasters,
The Walker Brothers,
Simply Red,
the Soft Cell,
Sun Ra,
Masters at Work,
Rites of Spring,
Chris & Cosey,
Rosa Yemen,
Jawbox,
The Associates,
Alphaville,
The Misunderstood,
Glenn Branca,
Soul II Soul,
H. Thieme,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Count Five,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hashim,
Audionom,
Schoolly D,
Tommy Roe,
Brand Nubian,
Boz Scaggs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Television Personalities,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Con Funk Shun,
Roxette,
B.T. Express,
Sound Behaviour,
Deepchord,
Joyce Sims,
Make Up,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.