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 Seychelles and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Black Sheep to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Todd Terry,
the Slits,
The Selecter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Peter & Gordon,
U.S. Maple,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crime,
Magazine,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Bar-Kays,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Mantronix,
Arthur Verocai,
Pussy Galore,
Bauhaus,
Anakelly,
Amon Düül II,
New York Dolls,
The Names,
OOIOO,
H. Thieme,
Hot Snakes,
Glenn Branca,
Circle Jerks,
Bronski Beat,
The Misunderstood,
Stockholm Monsters,
Slick Rick,
Popol Vuh,
The Human League,
EPMD,
PIL,
Fear,
Underground Resistance,
Section 25,
Metal Thangz,
Eurythmics,
Blancmange,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pantytec,
Ken Boothe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bill Wells,
Liliput,
The Music Machine,
Black Bananas,
ABC,
Faust,
Make Up,
X-101,
The Last Poets,
Fat Boys,
Eric Copeland,
Todd Rundgren,
The Pretty Things,
Livin' Joy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Motorama,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.