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 Eritrea and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the grime 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Kaleidoscope,
The Selecter,
Junior Murvin,
Arcadia,
The Toasters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
F. McDonald,
The Vogues,
Eric Copeland,
Mark Hollis,
Eden Ahbez,
Amon Düül,
The Cowsills,
Pussy Galore,
The Blackbyrds,
Amazonics,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mr. Review,
Infiniti,
The Electric Prunes,
Alison Limerick,
Rosa Yemen,
Pulsallama,
The Litter,
Scan 7,
the Slits,
Clear Light,
Cluster,
Zero Boys,
the Soft Cell,
Main Source,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Martian,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fortunes,
Iggy Pop,
Agent Orange,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Suicide,
The Slits,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delon & Dalcan,
a-ha,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Angry Samoans,
Television,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultra Naté,
Urselle,
Al Stewart,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sound,
Rakim,
Groovy Waters,
JFA,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.