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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Livin' Joy,
Patti Smith,
Pere Ubu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Victims,
Malaria!,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nico,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
The Barracudas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lightning Bolt,
Terry Callier,
Bluetip,
Byron Stingily,
Scott Walker,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marvin Gaye,
Cameo,
Siglo XX,
Rod Modell,
Johnny Clarke,
Second Layer,
Erykah Badu,
Tres Demented,
Nils Olav,
Quadrant,
Marshall Jefferson,
DNA,
The Mummies,
Steve Hackett,
Cluster,
Scrapy,
Trumans Water,
Negative Approach,
June of 44,
Alison Limerick,
Aaron Thompson,
Althea and Donna,
Quando Quango,
David McCallum,
The Stooges,
Severed Heads,
Stockholm Monsters,
The New Christs,
Alton Ellis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ossler,
The Moody Blues,
Bob Dylan,
One Last Wish,
The Shadows of Knight,
June Days,
The Sound,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.