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 France and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Gichy Dan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yusef Lateef,
Piero Umiliani,
Dark Day,
Khruangbin,
Moby Grape,
Oneida,
Popol Vuh,
Joensuu 1685,
Roger Hodgson,
Amon Düül,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crooked Eye,
The Alarm Clocks,
Groovy Waters,
Infiniti,
Technova,
Livin' Joy,
Hardrive,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
New Order,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bauhaus,
The United States of America,
The American Breed,
The Divine Comedy,
Bootsy Collins,
Joyce Sims,
Harry Pussy,
Radiohead,
Chris & Cosey,
Stetsasonic,
Con Funk Shun,
The Durutti Column,
Al Stewart,
Hasil Adkins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pagans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kaleidoscope,
Circle Jerks,
Funkadelic,
Aaron Thompson,
Mad Mike,
Mark Hollis,
Barrington Levy,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marvin Gaye,
Danielle Patucci,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rakim,
the Sonics,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun Ra,
Niagra,
Wally Richardson,
The Red Krayola,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.