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 Korea South and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin 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 Wally Richardson to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Scion,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Average White Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Colin Newman,
Bluetip,
Tom Boy,
The Blues Magoos,
Terry Callier,
The Barracudas,
Jeff Lynne,
Bob Dylan,
Tommy Roe,
Glenn Branca,
48th St. Collective,
Alice Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Kinks,
Adolescents,
Aloha Tigers,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cowsills,
Terrestrial Tones,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Slackers,
Lou Christie,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bronski Beat,
AZ,
DNA,
Eric Copeland,
Tubeway Army,
ABC,
Pylon,
The Searchers,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Offenders,
Altered Images,
Soul II Soul,
Sparks,
Simply Red,
Slave,
Tears for Fears,
Cheater Slicks,
World's Most,
Traffic Nightmare,
Royal Trux,
Saccharine Trust,
Quando Quango,
Fatback Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
Lakeside,
H. Thieme,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Star Department,
Mission of Burma,
Model 500,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.