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 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Slave,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nirvana,
E-Dancer,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
Aswad,
Brass Construction,
Hashim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moby Grape,
Guru Guru,
Excepter,
Scrapy,
Tommy Roe,
Infiniti,
John Lydon,
Soulsonic Force,
Das Ding,
Ossler,
The Pop Group,
Severed Heads,
Outsiders,
MDC,
The Names,
Moebius,
The J.B.'s,
D'Angelo,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Christie,
Graham Central Station,
Chris & Cosey,
Lyres,
The Monochrome Set,
Tres Demented,
Erasure,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Deadbeat,
Index,
Intrusion,
June of 44,
Eve St. Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joe Finger,
Little Man,
Royal Trux,
Terry Callier,
The Invisible,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dark Day,
Quadrant,
Yaz,
Bronski Beat,
New Order,
Sonic Youth,
The Real Kids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.