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 Paraguay and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kerrie Biddell to the punk 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Suburban Knight,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Moon,
LL Cool J,
E-Dancer,
Althea and Donna,
The Residents,
Eden Ahbez,
The Five Americans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
a-ha,
Lou Reed,
The Saints,
Underground Resistance,
The Pop Group,
Pet Shop Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amazonics,
Kas Product,
Pierre Henry,
Sonic Youth,
Surgeon,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Normal,
The Fugs,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Prunes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blancmange,
Y Pants,
Porter Ricks,
Joe Finger,
Marvin Gaye,
K-Klass,
Dead Boys,
China Crisis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hardrive,
Yazoo,
Niagra,
Saccharine Trust,
Qualms,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tim Buckley,
KRS-One,
Trumans Water,
Japan,
Dawn Penn,
Babytalk,
Bang On A Can,
Essential Logic,
The Mojo Men,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Red Krayola,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.