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 Bhutan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bang On A Can to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Underground Resistance,
Harry Pussy,
Section 25,
John Foxx,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Skarface,
Reagan Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang Gang Dance,
Q and Not U,
The Angels of Light,
The Evens,
Ronnie Foster,
The Grass Roots,
John Cale,
Jandek,
Kenny Larkin,
Rakim,
Siglo XX,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Boredoms,
the Bar-Kays,
The Dead C,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rapeman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Victims,
New York Dolls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Bananas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Quadrant,
The United States of America,
Nik Kershaw,
Nils Olav,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Trojans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
H. Thieme,
Warren Ellis,
Parry Music,
Rod Modell,
Rites of Spring,
The Motions,
Los Fastidios,
The Martian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Christie,
Josef K,
Minor Threat,
Erasure,
Inner City,
Matthew Bourne,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.