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 Vanuatu and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Hoover to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide 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?
Steve Hackett,
Moss Icon,
Black Pus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radiopuhelimet,
DNA,
Porter Ricks,
Tears for Fears,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
John Lydon,
Groovy Waters,
Gang Starr,
Minor Threat,
Bob Dylan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crooked Eye,
Unwound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joey Negro,
Motorama,
Crispy Ambulance,
Toni Rubio,
The Blues Magoos,
John Cale,
Kas Product,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mad Mike,
cv313,
Ponytail,
The Slits,
Visage,
Bauhaus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Swans,
Yaz,
Massinfluence,
The Gap Band,
The Angels of Light,
Brothers Johnson,
Donald Byrd,
Scion,
Roy Ayers,
Sister Nancy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scientists,
Todd Terry,
The Moleskins,
Maurizio,
The Doobie Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Index,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roxette,
Tom Boy,
John Foxx,
The Skatalites,
the Swans,
PIL,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.