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 Qatar and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 David Bowie 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 Grass Roots to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Groovy Waters,
Aural Exciters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mars,
Hardrive,
Pere Ubu,
Lucky Dragons,
The Invisible,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Techniques,
Dead Boys,
kango's stein massive,
Deepchord,
Shoche,
Negative Approach,
Isaac Hayes,
Lightning Bolt,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Robert Hood,
The Vogues,
The Doors,
Ultra Naté,
Rod Modell,
Cymande,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Subhumans,
Simply Red,
Little Man,
Excepter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Faust,
Fear,
Franke,
The Tremeloes,
Connie Case,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Visage,
The Gories,
T.S.O.L.,
Blancmange,
Harmonia,
Brass Construction,
Eurythmics,
H. Thieme,
Bill Near,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Blackbyrds,
Guru Guru,
Country Joe & The Fish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Smoke,
Nils Olav,
Eric Copeland,
Anakelly,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
E-Dancer,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.