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 Solomon Islands and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 PIL to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
D'Angelo,
Scott Walker,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Andrew Hill,
Stockholm Monsters,
Connie Case,
Underground Resistance,
Sparks,
John Lydon,
Gong,
The Trojans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Make Up,
The Names,
Ituana,
Johnny Clarke,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lower 48,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Laurel Aitken,
Desert Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
James White and The Blacks,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brick,
Youth Brigade,
Cluster,
Das Ding,
Talk Talk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tears for Fears,
The Invisible,
Black Sheep,
Glenn Branca,
Scion,
OOIOO,
Eddi Front,
Pierre Henry,
Mr. Review,
Albert Ayler,
Bluetip,
Negative Approach,
Khruangbin,
The Stooges,
Erasure,
Avey Tare,
Motorama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Basic Channel,
Reuben Wilson,
Sugar Minott,
The Victims,
Roxette,
The Human League,
Charles Mingus,
The Gladiators,
The Litter,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.