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 Ecuador and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Glenn Branca 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Public Image Ltd.,
X-101,
Roger Hodgson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Black Dice,
Marc Almond,
Cymande,
The Gladiators,
Faust,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Television,
Heaven 17,
Average White Band,
The Dead C,
These Immortal Souls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Model 500,
Marmalade,
Banda Bassotti,
Liliput,
Wings,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Suburban Knight,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
kango's stein massive,
Isaac Hayes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Reagan Youth,
Symarip,
The Selecter,
H. Thieme,
Skarface,
Amon Düül II,
Little Man,
Duran Duran,
Accadde A,
Matthew Halsall,
The Smiths,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Zero Boys,
June Days,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter & Gordon,
The Grass Roots,
the Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
Ossler,
The Monks,
Arab on Radar,
Gastr Del Sol,
E-Dancer,
John Lydon,
Todd Terry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Busters,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.