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 Mongolia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator 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 Marvin Gaye to the punk 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Michelle Simonal,
Fat Boys,
Monks,
Sun Ra,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Count Five,
The Victims,
Pussy Galore,
The Kinks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Association,
Rakim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sonics,
The Cure,
kango's stein massive,
Livin' Joy,
The Stooges,
Ten City,
DNA,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blancmange,
Alton Ellis,
Black Moon,
Tears for Fears,
Dawn Penn,
MC5,
Agent Orange,
K-Klass,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Morten Harket,
Warren Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stereo Dub,
The Monks,
Shuggie Otis,
The Slackers,
The Durutti Column,
The Doors,
Magma,
H. Thieme,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nas,
Can,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reagan Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric Dolphy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ohio Players,
The Move,
Electric Prunes,
10cc,
The Invisible,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.