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 Slovenia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Tres Demented to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Darondo,
KRS-One,
Unwound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ronan,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cowsills,
The Black Dice,
Lou Christie,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bronski Beat,
Wally Richardson,
Harry Pussy,
Icehouse,
Kaleidoscope,
the Sonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Banda Bassotti,
Altered Images,
Marmalade,
Fad Gadget,
Sun Ra,
June of 44,
Roxy Music,
Gang of Four,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Davy DMX,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gun Club,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lalo Schifrin,
Amon Düül II,
The Golliwogs,
Neu!,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tomorrow,
The Count Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blossom Toes,
The Raincoats,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Adolescents,
Pole,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Reuben Wilson,
Young Marble Giants,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Evens,
Pantaleimon,
Isaac Hayes,
Pet Shop Boys,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.