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 Cameroon and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Hot Snakes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Clear Light,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Don Cherry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pantaleimon,
Little Man,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ludus,
Brothers Johnson,
CMW,
X-102,
The Star Department,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Symarip,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Magazine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Pus,
Althea and Donna,
Hashim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Babytalk,
Eric Copeland,
Lyres,
Sound Behaviour,
The Velvet Underground,
Al Stewart,
Technova,
DNA,
The Remains,
Connie Case,
The Gun Club,
Sam Rivers,
Tears for Fears,
Subhumans,
Section 25,
Davy DMX,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Martian,
ABBA,
UT,
Arcadia,
June of 44,
Pharoah Sanders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blackbyrds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alison Limerick,
Gang Green,
Soul Sonic Force,
Heaven 17,
The Durutti Column,
Soulsonic Force,
T.S.O.L.,
Tubeway Army,
Yellowson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.