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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Throbbing Gristle to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Ohio Players,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Basic Channel,
The Neon Judgement,
Bauhaus,
Wally Richardson,
The Residents,
Nirvana,
The Offenders,
Liliput,
Ronnie Foster,
The Young Rascals,
Harpers Bizarre,
Leonard Cohen,
Flamin' Groovies,
Patti Smith,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultravox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
AZ,
Deepchord,
Alphaville,
Unrelated Segments,
Oneida,
The Dirtbombs,
Essential Logic,
Guru Guru,
Theoretical Girls,
China Crisis,
The Star Department,
Maleditus Sound,
Max Romeo,
X-Ray Spex,
Model 500,
Jacques Brel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Camouflage,
Q and Not U,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dawn Penn,
Suburban Knight,
MC5,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pagans,
Letta Mbulu,
New York Dolls,
Nils Olav,
Kenny Larkin,
Television,
Sex Pistols,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Brick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soulsonic Force,
Ronan,
Eden Ahbez,
In Retrospect,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Public Enemy,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.