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 Malta and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Thompson Twins to the disco 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Reuben Wilson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marshall Jefferson,
Outsiders,
Can,
Quantec,
Scott Walker,
The Trojans,
Thee Headcoats,
The Associates,
Rapeman,
The Gories,
John Coltrane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fat Boys,
Eddi Front,
Hoover,
Mars,
The Offenders,
Technova,
Alphaville,
The Blues Magoos,
New York Dolls,
The Motions,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
This Heat,
Arthur Verocai,
Anakelly,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Copeland,
The Pretty Things,
Gichy Dan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dorothy Ashby,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ossler,
Marine Girls,
Gang Green,
Accadde A,
Pierre Henry,
Eurythmics,
Gang of Four,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Holt,
K-Klass,
Bluetip,
Japan,
Leonard Cohen,
Minutemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joe Finger,
ABC,
MC5,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flipper,
H. Thieme,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.