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 United States and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Flamin' Groovies to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fuzztones,
Newcleus,
Roxy Music,
Moby Grape,
Oblivians,
Rites of Spring,
Cameo,
JFA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chris & Cosey,
The Music Machine,
Shuggie Otis,
Rakim,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Pus,
Quando Quango,
Icehouse,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brass Construction,
Au Pairs,
New Order,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultra Naté,
The Cramps,
Lindisfarne,
B.T. Express,
Mo-Dettes,
Bill Wells,
Davy DMX,
Aloha Tigers,
Jawbox,
Marc Almond,
Make Up,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scan 7,
Barry Ungar,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Reagan Youth,
Pere Ubu,
Yusef Lateef,
The Leaves,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fluxion,
Flash Fearless,
Boredoms,
FM Einheit,
Altered Images,
Trumans Water,
Ultravox,
Stockholm Monsters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.