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 Estonia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the techno 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
The Divine Comedy,
Henry Cow,
Jerry's Kids,
Boredoms,
Grey Daturas,
Outsiders,
Scientists,
Angry Samoans,
H. Thieme,
Fugazi,
Joyce Sims,
Wolf Eyes,
DNA,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Ponytail,
Howard Jones,
Television Personalities,
Wire,
Flipper,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Pus,
The Knickerbockers,
Judy Mowatt,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marine Girls,
Mr. Review,
Robert Görl,
Roxette,
Camberwell Now,
Althea and Donna,
Rod Modell,
Joy Division,
Spandau Ballet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Skarface,
Amazonics,
Pantaleimon,
Rekid,
Pierre Henry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kaleidoscope,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Star Department,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pole,
Slick Rick,
Accadde A,
Sugar Minott,
Mars,
kango's stein massive,
Tears for Fears,
The Cure,
Al Stewart,
Brick,
La Düsseldorf,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.