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 Togo and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The New Christs to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Wally Richardson,
Shoche,
Lower 48,
Bobby Womack,
Althea and Donna,
Surgeon,
Maleditus Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Joy Division,
Wire,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barbara Tucker,
Dead Boys,
The Offenders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sparks,
the Human League,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Sherman,
Flipper,
Schoolly D,
Moby Grape,
Zapp,
Fat Boys,
Public Enemy,
Scion,
Delta 5,
Spandau Ballet,
The Music Machine,
Max Romeo,
Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
T.S.O.L.,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Young Rascals,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rapeman,
Thee Headcoats,
Godley & Creme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fire Engines,
Dual Sessions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Zero Boys,
Charles Mingus,
The Dirtbombs,
Danielle Patucci,
Bluetip,
U.S. Maple,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.