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 Brunei and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Detroit Cobras to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
ABC,
Skarface,
Sexual Harrassment,
Henry Cow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric Dolphy,
Tears for Fears,
X-Ray Spex,
Liliput,
Absolute Body Control,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Golliwogs,
Chrome,
Wire,
Juan Atkins,
Minnie Riperton,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harry Pussy,
Black Bananas,
The Martian,
Stockholm Monsters,
Theoretical Girls,
Bob Dylan,
Slick Rick,
Jandek,
Yellowson,
Scientists,
The Slits,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aaron Thompson,
Trumans Water,
Lindisfarne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scrapy,
John Foxx,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tomorrow,
Davy DMX,
Stetsasonic,
Siglo XX,
Piero Umiliani,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Das Ding,
China Crisis,
Loose Ends,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
In Retrospect,
X-102,
Inner City,
Livin' Joy,
Roy Ayers,
Fugazi,
Pulsallama,
Adolescents,
Young Marble Giants,
Duran Duran,
LL Cool J,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.