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 Lesotho and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the rap 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Newcleus,
The Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Donald Byrd,
Black Pus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Isaac Hayes,
Duran Duran,
Skarface,
Marc Almond,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Slick Rick,
Mission of Burma,
Aural Exciters,
Juan Atkins,
Pylon,
T. Rex,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Techniques,
Minor Threat,
Idris Muhammad,
L. Decosne,
Delta 5,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scratch Acid,
CMW,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Bowie,
Pierre Henry,
Sparks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barry Ungar,
The Slits,
Wasted Youth,
Todd Rundgren,
Byron Stingily,
the Germs,
Faust,
The Smoke,
Soul Sonic Force,
K-Klass,
Minnie Riperton,
Skriet,
Angry Samoans,
DNA,
Colin Newman,
Pussy Galore,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Knickerbockers,
Ken Boothe,
Joensuu 1685,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül,
Model 500,
EPMD,
Talk Talk,
Alphaville,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.