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 Hungary and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Kinks to the grime 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Monolake,
The Dirtbombs,
The Seeds,
Donald Byrd,
Altered Images,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Victims,
Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Man Eating Sloth,
Negative Approach,
Nico,
Dual Sessions,
Peter and Kerry,
New Age Steppers,
the Normal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Index,
Letta Mbulu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Carl Craig,
The Birthday Party,
Public Enemy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Nick Fraelich,
The Associates,
Eddi Front,
Anthony Braxton,
Mantronix,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bill Wells,
Model 500,
Tim Buckley,
The Residents,
Los Fastidios,
Peter & Gordon,
This Heat,
The Real Kids,
The J.B.'s,
The Techniques,
Eden Ahbez,
Eurythmics,
Buzzcocks,
the Slits,
the Human League,
Pagans,
The Misunderstood,
Piero Umiliani,
Rites of Spring,
Marc Almond,
Royal Trux,
Erasure,
The Slackers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Soft Cell,
Reagan Youth,
Nils Olav,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.