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 Antigua and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grunge 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Rotary Connection,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Monks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marcia Griffiths,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jacques Brel,
Shuggie Otis,
Byron Stingily,
Soulsonic Force,
Ten City,
Sugar Minott,
Lakeside,
PIL,
In Retrospect,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eli Mardock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Harmonia,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Magazine,
Sound Behaviour,
Slave,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cal Tjader,
Aloha Tigers,
Moss Icon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grey Daturas,
Crash Course in Science,
Subhumans,
the Swans,
The Last Poets,
The Seeds,
Second Layer,
Groovy Waters,
Dead Boys,
Man Parrish,
Zapp,
Bob Dylan,
E-Dancer,
Rites of Spring,
Josef K,
Arcadia,
The Sonics,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The J.B.'s,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Chrome,
Warsaw,
The Gun Club,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Smiths,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.