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 Papua New Guinea and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar 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 Drive Like Jehu to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Black Bananas,
Rakim,
Monks,
Nirvana,
Black Sheep,
The Trojans,
Arthur Verocai,
Neu!,
Pylon,
Cameo,
Siglo XX,
Pet Shop Boys,
Massinfluence,
The Zeros,
Joensuu 1685,
Tubeway Army,
Dead Boys,
Soft Cell,
Darondo,
The Martian,
Aswad,
Bobby Womack,
The Tremeloes,
Ornette Coleman,
JFA,
Jeff Lynne,
The Walker Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joe Finger,
Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Reuben Wilson,
Josef K,
Althea and Donna,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rod Modell,
Amazonics,
Sun City Girls,
Guru Guru,
Desert Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
Make Up,
Amon Düül,
Agent Orange,
Dawn Penn,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Residents,
Maurizio,
The Offenders,
EPMD,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Max Romeo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Moon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Pretty Things,
Pole,
Sight & Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.