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 United Kingdom and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Urselle to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smoke,
The Standells,
In Retrospect,
Aaron Thompson,
The Victims,
Pet Shop Boys,
F. McDonald,
Nik Kershaw,
The Last Poets,
Robert Görl,
The Leaves,
Dead Boys,
Crime,
Fugazi,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camberwell Now,
Flamin' Groovies,
Idris Muhammad,
Magma,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jesper Dahlback,
Public Enemy,
Connie Case,
Boogie Down Productions,
Interpol,
Terry Callier,
Black Moon,
The American Breed,
Sam Rivers,
a-ha,
FM Einheit,
The Zeros,
Laurel Aitken,
Rotary Connection,
Dennis Brown,
Negative Approach,
Gong,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gun Club,
Andrew Hill,
Rod Modell,
Roger Hodgson,
Howard Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mojo Men,
Scrapy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Saints,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Essential Logic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stereo Dub,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Los Fastidios,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Surgeon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.