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 El Salvador and from Copenhagen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Cheater Slicks to the rock 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Arcadia,
a-ha,
Jeru the Damaja,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quadrant,
Bobby Sherman,
U.S. Maple,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Average White Band,
Malaria!,
Steve Hackett,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Black Dice,
Stiv Bators,
Ultimate Spinach,
T. Rex,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wally Richardson,
The Index,
Popol Vuh,
Althea and Donna,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marmalade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Connie Case,
Shoche,
Brand Nubian,
Altered Images,
The Names,
Pierre Henry,
Gang Starr,
The Pop Group,
Patti Smith,
Josef K,
Alphaville,
James White and The Blacks,
Iggy Pop,
The Monochrome Set,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Terry Callier,
Dual Sessions,
Junior Murvin,
Bill Wells,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ten City,
The Star Department,
The Move,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harry Pussy,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gladiators,
Surgeon,
Infiniti,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.