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 Cuba and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tres Demented to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 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 Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
T. Rex,
DJ Sneak,
Blossom Toes,
Robert Hood,
Sixth Finger,
Judy Mowatt,
Franke,
Wasted Youth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Simply Red,
The Detroit Cobras,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stetsasonic,
F. McDonald,
The Dead C,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lalann,
Flipper,
Altered Images,
Bootsy Collins,
Anakelly,
Underground Resistance,
Yaz,
Hasil Adkins,
B.T. Express,
Pantaleimon,
Delta 5,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Almond,
Stiv Bators,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tom Boy,
Gang Green,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Silicon Teens,
the Sonics,
Pere Ubu,
cv313,
Ronnie Foster,
Guru Guru,
Tim Buckley,
Jerry's Kids,
The Searchers,
H. Thieme,
OOIOO,
The Velvet Underground,
The Last Poets,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wolf Eyes,
Gabor Szabo,
Gong,
The Golliwogs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
June Days,
Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Average White Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hoover,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.