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 Djibouti and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 The New Christs to the electroclash 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
The Dirtbombs,
Patti Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Spandau Ballet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
cv313,
Sun Ra,
Moss Icon,
The Count Five,
Interpol,
The Index,
Das Ding,
Yusef Lateef,
John Coltrane,
Roy Ayers,
Ken Boothe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Enemy,
James White and The Blacks,
Cybotron,
Albert Ayler,
Adolescents,
The Standells,
Sarah Menescal,
Los Fastidios,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacques Brel,
Black Bananas,
Fugazi,
the Human League,
the Sonics,
Sällskapet,
Shuggie Otis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roxette,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Negative Approach,
Thompson Twins,
The Mojo Men,
Bill Wells,
World's Most,
The Leaves,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yazoo,
Porter Ricks,
Henry Cow,
David McCallum,
10cc,
The Black Dice,
UT,
Funky Four + One,
Pole,
Jawbox,
Magazine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Evens,
Scott Walker,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.