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 Czech Republic and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 New York Dolls to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Brick,
Rod Modell,
Flipper,
The Sonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Erasure,
The Smoke,
Q and Not U,
Kenny Larkin,
The Move,
Sister Nancy,
Derrick May,
Quadrant,
Junior Murvin,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Golliwogs,
Franke,
Fear,
Aaron Thompson,
Harmonia,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minny Pops,
The Pop Group,
Tim Buckley,
Eve St. Jones,
Half Japanese,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
Infiniti,
Circle Jerks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Raincoats,
Sound Behaviour,
Parry Music,
Au Pairs,
Television Personalities,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Talk Talk,
The Remains,
the Slits,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fall,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rapeman,
Newcleus,
E-Dancer,
Magazine,
Ponytail,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crash Course in Science,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marine Girls,
The Gun Club,
Mo-Dettes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ohio Players,
Ultra Naté,
Main Source,
The Slits,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.