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 Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare 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 The Smoke to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Jandek,
Dennis Brown,
Grauzone,
The Victims,
The Wake,
Al Stewart,
Camberwell Now,
Quantec,
Wire,
The Cure,
Funky Four + One,
Eli Mardock,
Index,
a-ha,
Harmonia,
Ituana,
Nick Fraelich,
The Shadows of Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Beau Brummels,
Stockholm Monsters,
Carl Craig,
Lyres,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-102,
Marine Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
DJ Sneak,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Remains,
Siglo XX,
Eric Dolphy,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Graham Central Station,
The Angels of Light,
This Heat,
The Walker Brothers,
The Techniques,
Easy Going,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barry Ungar,
The Moleskins,
the Soft Cell,
Franke,
Surgeon,
Reagan Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
MDC,
Barbara Tucker,
The Black Dice,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Magma,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gories,
Ornette Coleman,
Funkadelic,
The Sound,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.