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 Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Essential Logic,
Schoolly D,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacob Miller,
Skaos,
Marmalade,
Vladislav Delay,
The New Christs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Depeche Mode,
Minnie Riperton,
Albert Ayler,
Radiohead,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Gories,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Litter,
Mr. Review,
Howard Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Duran Duran,
Country Teasers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pussy Galore,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gun Club,
June Days,
Anakelly,
Echospace,
Slick Rick,
Robert Hood,
X-Ray Spex,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang On A Can,
Heaven 17,
Colin Newman,
The Electric Prunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crooked Eye,
B.T. Express,
Ituana,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sound,
Boz Scaggs,
The Divine Comedy,
The Invisible,
Moby Grape,
Donald Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
Sparks,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Sonics,
Fugazi,
Youth Brigade,
Glambeats Corp.,
DNA,
F. McDonald,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.