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 Niger and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Robert Hood to the electroclash 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
the Sonics,
The Young Rascals,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeru the Damaja,
Siglo XX,
Aloha Tigers,
Hoover,
Johnny Clarke,
Fluxion,
The Buckinghams,
Eric Dolphy,
Electric Prunes,
Minor Threat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nick Fraelich,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
the Slits,
Roxy Music,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Happenings,
Rhythm & Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Can,
Black Moon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Raincoats,
Ultra Naté,
Metal Thangz,
The Smoke,
Oneida,
Nils Olav,
Cecil Taylor,
June Days,
Shuggie Otis,
Nik Kershaw,
Organ,
The Modern Lovers,
Slave,
FM Einheit,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joe Finger,
The Vogues,
Qualms,
Henry Cow,
Porter Ricks,
Severed Heads,
Accadde A,
Neu!,
Silicon Teens,
MDC,
Theoretical Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The United States of America,
Model 500,
New Order,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.