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 Fiji and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Donald Fagen 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 Pussy Galore to the rap 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Bill Near,
The Happenings,
The Dirtbombs,
Tears for Fears,
Theoretical Girls,
Circle Jerks,
Charles Mingus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
MDC,
The Slackers,
Porter Ricks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mad Mike,
MC5,
Black Pus,
Donald Byrd,
Second Layer,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
China Crisis,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Sherman,
Pole,
Howard Jones,
Harmonia,
Trumans Water,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Barracudas,
Aaron Thompson,
Interpol,
Don Cherry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sister Nancy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
UT,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Gories,
Steve Hackett,
Minor Threat,
Sam Rivers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pet Shop Boys,
Peter and Kerry,
Essential Logic,
Jacques Brel,
The Cure,
Eddi Front,
Kaleidoscope,
Scott Walker,
Funky Four + One,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
Delta 5,
Minutemen,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Tomorrow,
Fear,
Danielle Patucci,
June Days,
Delon & Dalcan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.