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 Dominican Republic and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Surgeon to the punk 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Radio Birdman,
Magazine,
Icehouse,
The Evens,
E-Dancer,
Frankie Knuckles,
Spandau Ballet,
The Walker Brothers,
Glenn Branca,
Jeff Lynne,
Ludus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wire,
Dave Gahan,
Yusef Lateef,
Harry Pussy,
Charles Mingus,
The Pretty Things,
Dual Sessions,
Angry Samoans,
Aural Exciters,
Erasure,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soulsonic Force,
The Cure,
Los Fastidios,
Pulsallama,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nils Olav,
The Fuzztones,
Scott Walker,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flamin' Groovies,
Index,
Gabor Szabo,
Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
Big Daddy Kane,
Vainqueur,
Massinfluence,
Model 500,
Amon Düül II,
Severed Heads,
Danielle Patucci,
New Age Steppers,
The Trojans,
the Sonics,
Pussy Galore,
Roger Hodgson,
The Smoke,
The Music Machine,
Ponytail,
CMW,
T. Rex,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick Morgan,
Shuggie Otis,
Hashim,
K-Klass,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.