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 Barbados and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Cameo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
The Velvet Underground,
The Index,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tom Boy,
Sandy B,
Terrestrial Tones,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Modern Lovers,
Pylon,
Iggy Pop,
Boz Scaggs,
Graham Central Station,
Can,
The Vogues,
Rites of Spring,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Fire Engines,
Sarah Menescal,
Pole,
Warren Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Von Mondo,
Cymande,
The Saints,
Alison Limerick,
Circle Jerks,
Severed Heads,
The Fall,
Wally Richardson,
Marc Almond,
The Mummies,
La Düsseldorf,
Marshall Jefferson,
The United States of America,
David McCallum,
EPMD,
The Raincoats,
The Moody Blues,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fatback Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Godley & Creme,
Alton Ellis,
Johnny Clarke,
Mars,
Joe Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marmalade,
Das Ding,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric Copeland,
Dawn Penn,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cheater Slicks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moss Icon,
The Red Krayola,
Smog,
The Alarm Clocks,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.