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 Chile and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Lou Christie to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
The Slackers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sparks,
the Human League,
B.T. Express,
The Move,
Maurizio,
Johnny Clarke,
Yazoo,
Quantec,
OOIOO,
The Dave Clark Five,
Agitation Free,
Fifty Foot Hose,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dead C,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dead Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
UT,
Grey Daturas,
Cecil Taylor,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Pus,
Ronnie Foster,
Barry Ungar,
Scientists,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fugazi,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terrestrial Tones,
Japan,
Warsaw,
Heaven 17,
Rosa Yemen,
Janne Schatter,
The Saints,
Cybotron,
Cameo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Red Krayola,
The Velvet Underground,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jawbox,
Intrusion,
Don Cherry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neu!,
The Flesh Eaters,
James White and The Blacks,
Buzzcocks,
Animal Collective,
Amazonics,
Todd Rundgren,
The Buckinghams,
The Slits,
Severed Heads,
Cluster,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Byrd,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.