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 Greece and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the punk 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Patti Smith,
Soul II Soul,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
Freddie Wadling,
Popol Vuh,
Kurtis Blow,
Slave,
The Flesh Eaters,
Accadde A,
Sam Rivers,
Marine Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Saints,
Arthur Verocai,
Danielle Patucci,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Velvet Underground,
Urselle,
The Fall,
Average White Band,
Drexciya,
The Remains,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hoover,
The Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
New Age Steppers,
Bush Tetras,
Kayak,
JFA,
Erykah Badu,
Swans,
Fugazi,
Interpol,
Eric Copeland,
Angry Samoans,
48th St. Collective,
Quadrant,
Amazonics,
Soft Cell,
Goldenarms,
Ronnie Foster,
Don Cherry,
David Bowie,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kas Product,
The Cure,
Albert Ayler,
Nirvana,
Metal Thangz,
Roxette,
Unrelated Segments,
Gichy Dan,
Hardrive,
Sixth Finger,
The Motions,
Tommy Roe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.