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 Dominica and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fear to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Almond,
The Zeros,
ABC,
Gang Starr,
Guru Guru,
Eve St. Jones,
Joy Division,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roxette,
MC5,
Blancmange,
Trumans Water,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Stooges,
K-Klass,
Intrusion,
Connie Case,
Sexual Harrassment,
Freddie Wadling,
Heaven 17,
The Invisible,
Man Parrish,
The Dead C,
Gong,
Rufus Thomas,
Panda Bear,
Simply Red,
Negative Approach,
The Music Machine,
Scan 7,
Lou Reed,
The Litter,
Nico,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dave Clark Five,
Arab on Radar,
Surgeon,
Deakin,
The Durutti Column,
Fear,
Depeche Mode,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Agent Orange,
Sugar Minott,
Porter Ricks,
Ossler,
Matthew Bourne,
Livin' Joy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
F. McDonald,
Buzzcocks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fat Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Underground Resistance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Smooth,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.