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 Somalia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
June Days,
New Age Steppers,
Amon Düül II,
The Alarm Clocks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Von Mondo,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Reed,
Magma,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Angry Samoans,
Altered Images,
The Selecter,
Lyres,
Lee Hazlewood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Japan,
Shoche,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Green,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Connie Case,
Terry Callier,
Au Pairs,
Ultra Naté,
Pantaleimon,
Faraquet,
Pierre Henry,
Roxette,
The Divine Comedy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eurythmics,
Eli Mardock,
Kerri Chandler,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harry Pussy,
Heaven 17,
FM Einheit,
Gong,
Jerry's Kids,
The Blackbyrds,
Mantronix,
Yellowson,
The Dirtbombs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rosa Yemen,
F. McDonald,
Rites of Spring,
ABBA,
Pet Shop Boys,
Can,
Sandy B,
Marine Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scientists,
Sonny Sharrock,
Glenn Branca,
Rhythm & Sound,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.