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 Micronesia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum 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 Radiopuhelimet to the jazz 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Lungfish,
UT,
Malaria!,
Crooked Eye,
David Bowie,
Sixth Finger,
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jawbox,
The Durutti Column,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kerri Chandler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bush Tetras,
Trumans Water,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Matthew Halsall,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare,
JFA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pantaleimon,
Dawn Penn,
Darondo,
The Gladiators,
Royal Trux,
Make Up,
Au Pairs,
Roy Ayers,
Bronski Beat,
Gong,
The Dirtbombs,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Modern Lovers,
Al Stewart,
Beasts of Bourbon,
New York Dolls,
Marc Almond,
Pere Ubu,
Roger Hodgson,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Cell,
The Zeros,
Lou Christie,
The Gap Band,
Underground Resistance,
Fad Gadget,
Sugar Minott,
The Cure,
The Star Department,
Henry Cow,
Easy Going,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bauhaus,
Fatback Band,
Pagans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Adolescents,
10cc,
The Real Kids,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.