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 Cambodia and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Crispy Ambulance to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Intrusion,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Wyatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Josef K,
Schoolly D,
Sällskapet,
Thee Headcoats,
The Names,
Simply Red,
Dawn Penn,
Blake Baxter,
Severed Heads,
DJ Style,
Echospace,
The Neon Judgement,
Nick Fraelich,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quantec,
Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lakeside,
The Real Kids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radio Birdman,
Ponytail,
New Order,
Kevin Saunderson,
Con Funk Shun,
Johnny Osbourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Selecter,
The Birthday Party,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Colin Newman,
The Cowsills,
The Residents,
Lou Reed,
Crooked Eye,
These Immortal Souls,
Donald Byrd,
Model 500,
Television Personalities,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Urselle,
Joy Division,
EPMD,
Pussy Galore,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Surgeon,
Anakelly,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crime,
Arab on Radar,
Fad Gadget,
FM Einheit,
Ronan,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.