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 Congo 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Soulsonic Force to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Dead Boys,
Pantaleimon,
AZ,
The United States of America,
Bill Near,
Los Fastidios,
The New Christs,
Aloha Tigers,
Glenn Branca,
FM Einheit,
Funkadelic,
The J.B.'s,
The Monks,
The Tremeloes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun Ra,
Pussy Galore,
Eden Ahbez,
The Leaves,
Adolescents,
Skaos,
Supertramp,
Sonic Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Junior Murvin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ultimate Spinach,
Peter & Gordon,
the Slits,
New Order,
Black Flag,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry's Kids,
Hot Snakes,
Black Sheep,
The Birthday Party,
Mo-Dettes,
Sparks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Country Teasers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amon Düül II,
The Index,
Todd Rundgren,
Juan Atkins,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
L. Decosne,
Eddi Front,
Carl Craig,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mission of Burma,
Jawbox,
Davy DMX,
Vainqueur,
Scientists,
June Days,
Robert Wyatt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.