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 Sweden and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Reagan Youth to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Litter,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Wyatt,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monochrome Set,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
The Buckinghams,
This Heat,
Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
Absolute Body Control,
The Flesh Eaters,
Livin' Joy,
Model 500,
The Saints,
10cc,
Tommy Roe,
Amon Düül II,
The Black Dice,
Yaz,
Sight & Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
June of 44,
Sun City Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Second Layer,
Subhumans,
Tom Boy,
Blake Baxter,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Green,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Christie,
Quando Quango,
Accadde A,
Grauzone,
Bill Wells,
Jawbox,
Hardrive,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Monks,
Mo-Dettes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ornette Coleman,
In Retrospect,
The Techniques,
Althea and Donna,
Arthur Verocai,
Rakim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warren Ellis,
The Gories,
New York Dolls,
Ronnie Foster,
the Germs,
Anthony Braxton,
Ituana,
Moebius,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.