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 Indonesia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 PIL to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brass Construction,
Agent Orange,
Reagan Youth,
Das Ding,
Shoche,
OOIOO,
the Fania All-Stars,
Make Up,
Little Man,
Siglo XX,
The United States of America,
Model 500,
Swans,
Scientists,
Brick,
The Names,
Tres Demented,
Marc Almond,
Newcleus,
The Leaves,
Warsaw,
Ludus,
EPMD,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oneida,
Fat Boys,
Hashim,
The Black Dice,
Morten Harket,
Cymande,
The Doors,
MDC,
Sandy B,
Sister Nancy,
R.M.O.,
Deepchord,
PIL,
The Five Americans,
Boz Scaggs,
The Neon Judgement,
Minny Pops,
Archie Shepp,
Circle Jerks,
Shuggie Otis,
Roxy Music,
Suicide,
Arab on Radar,
Cal Tjader,
Pere Ubu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Susan Cadogan,
The Slackers,
Pussy Galore,
Jeff Mills,
Zapp,
Gabor Szabo,
Ituana,
Essential Logic,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.