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 Libya and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Sonics to the grunge 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Gang Gang Dance,
KRS-One,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lou Christie,
Marvin Gaye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Excepter,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
Chris Corsano,
The New Christs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
In Retrospect,
E-Dancer,
Gang Starr,
Peter & Gordon,
Half Japanese,
Rites of Spring,
Barclay James Harvest,
Japan,
Boz Scaggs,
Brass Construction,
Bluetip,
Steve Hackett,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Janne Schatter,
T. Rex,
Surgeon,
Quantec,
The Vogues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Animal Collective,
Rod Modell,
One Last Wish,
Black Sheep,
Babytalk,
The Star Department,
Jerry's Kids,
Pere Ubu,
Buzzcocks,
Agent Orange,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Stooges,
Eve St. Jones,
Neu!,
Youth Brigade,
Model 500,
The Young Rascals,
The Music Machine,
Erasure,
The Searchers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rosa Yemen,
Easy Going,
The Grass Roots,
Man Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.