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 Chile and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb 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 Traffic Nightmare to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Chrome,
The Monks,
Zapp,
Rod Modell,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Invisible,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joey Negro,
Dennis Brown,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kayak,
Graham Central Station,
The Smiths,
Reagan Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Eric Copeland,
The Wake,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Moody Blues,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Modern Lovers,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Victims,
Connie Case,
Porter Ricks,
Loose Ends,
The Offenders,
Iggy Pop,
the Normal,
The Associates,
Spandau Ballet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Organ,
Can,
Black Moon,
Eve St. Jones,
Todd Rundgren,
Sex Pistols,
OOIOO,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pere Ubu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chris Corsano,
The Pretty Things,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pussy Galore,
Absolute Body Control,
Wally Richardson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Christie,
Peter & Gordon,
Eli Mardock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Negative Approach,
The Blues Magoos,
Piero Umiliani,
Toni Rubio,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.