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 Romania and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Maleditus Sound to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Chrome,
U.S. Maple,
Letta Mbulu,
Warsaw,
Pylon,
Dual Sessions,
This Heat,
Yazoo,
Marine Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alice Coltrane,
Crash Course in Science,
World's Most,
The Techniques,
The Seeds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gories,
Dennis Brown,
Rufus Thomas,
Soft Machine,
Erasure,
Minny Pops,
Das Ding,
X-101,
Cybotron,
The Standells,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Accadde A,
Icehouse,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Max Romeo,
Deepchord,
kango's stein massive,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Shadows of Knight,
New Age Steppers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vainqueur,
Interpol,
Anthony Braxton,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Martian,
K-Klass,
Barbara Tucker,
The Red Krayola,
Buzzcocks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Quadrant,
Jeru the Damaja,
Warren Ellis,
Neil Young,
Swell Maps,
Jacob Miller,
Blossom Toes,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.