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 South Sudan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rapeman to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Roxette,
Basic Channel,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Cameo,
Eric Dolphy,
Gichy Dan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tubeway Army,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
La Düsseldorf,
Fad Gadget,
Niagra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Rundgren,
Thee Headcoats,
Tim Buckley,
Boz Scaggs,
Absolute Body Control,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Average White Band,
This Heat,
Bad Manners,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Human League,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sex Pistols,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cowsills,
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lalann,
Isaac Hayes,
Monolake,
Bauhaus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Visage,
Zapp,
Flash Fearless,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Qualms,
Animal Collective,
KRS-One,
Guru Guru,
The New Christs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Index,
Jandek,
Minny Pops,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Last Poets,
X-101,
The Gun Club,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pere Ubu,
John Lydon,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.