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 Nauru and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Searchers to the electroclash 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Ponytail,
MC5,
Laurel Aitken,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Henry Cow,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Clarke,
The Residents,
Eddi Front,
The Electric Prunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scion,
Stiv Bators,
The Grass Roots,
OOIOO,
The Smiths,
Arab on Radar,
Eve St. Jones,
The Kinks,
Rod Modell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Urselle,
Pussy Galore,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Delta 5,
John Foxx,
Marc Almond,
Marine Girls,
Guru Guru,
Unwound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Absolute Body Control,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fortunes,
LL Cool J,
Godley & Creme,
Hoover,
R.M.O.,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
David Bowie,
the Normal,
Funkadelic,
The Vogues,
Crash Course in Science,
Malaria!,
Minnie Riperton,
In Retrospect,
a-ha,
Crime,
the Slits,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Slick Rick,
L. Decosne,
Black Flag,
Anakelly,
The Slits,
Thompson Twins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Deakin,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.