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 Vietnam and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 David Bowie 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 These Immortal Souls to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Matthew Halsall,
the Association,
Skriet,
U.S. Maple,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mo-Dettes,
Soft Cell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bluetip,
The Sisters of Mercy,
EPMD,
Roger Hodgson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Duran Duran,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brick,
Cymande,
Suburban Knight,
Lyres,
Mantronix,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
8 Eyed Spy,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Young Rascals,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gang Gang Dance,
Iggy Pop,
The Buckinghams,
Joe Smooth,
Pagans,
Popol Vuh,
Warren Ellis,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kenny Larkin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moss Icon,
Warsaw,
Banda Bassotti,
Procol Harum,
The Dead C,
the Human League,
Vainqueur,
Oneida,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Henry Cow,
New Age Steppers,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.