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 Brazil and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Stockholm Monsters to the rock 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Black Flag,
Ultra Naté,
Television,
Sexual Harrassment,
Infiniti,
the Slits,
Con Funk Shun,
Sonic Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Porter Ricks,
Pulsallama,
Mission of Burma,
Tubeway Army,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Radio Birdman,
The Black Dice,
Bob Dylan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Association,
Harry Pussy,
Rotary Connection,
Colin Newman,
The Doors,
The Vogues,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bang On A Can,
Ultravox,
Jawbox,
Q and Not U,
8 Eyed Spy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cowsills,
Suburban Knight,
The Slackers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Easy Going,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare,
Aaron Thompson,
John Foxx,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeff Lynne,
ABC,
Minnie Riperton,
Brand Nubian,
Ituana,
Pole,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Procol Harum,
Johnny Clarke,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.