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 Guatemala and from Paris.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the rap 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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Mojo Men,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Remains,
Swell Maps,
Pantaleimon,
The Raincoats,
Interpol,
Kurtis Blow,
Los Fastidios,
EPMD,
Black Flag,
ABBA,
Pylon,
Slave,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dual Sessions,
Nirvana,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kayak,
Minutemen,
Porter Ricks,
Alton Ellis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fear,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Wells,
Public Enemy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
World's Most,
The Golliwogs,
Al Stewart,
The Detroit Cobras,
Royal Trux,
The Gun Club,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warren Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eve St. Jones,
Scratch Acid,
Eden Ahbez,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Michelle Simonal,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joe Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
Arcadia,
Schoolly D,
Black Bananas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Quantec,
The Star Department,
Joensuu 1685,
Sixth Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Negative Approach,
Fugazi,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.