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 Denmark and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 The Fire Engines to the grunge 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Gang of Four,
Monks,
KRS-One,
Ossler,
Ohio Players,
Metal Thangz,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Knickerbockers,
The Seeds,
Vladislav Delay,
Agitation Free,
Scientists,
The Gladiators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Warren Ellis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joyce Sims,
Alison Limerick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moss Icon,
MC5,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slackers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Red Krayola,
Sugar Minott,
Radio Birdman,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Buckinghams,
Symarip,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Groovy Waters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
D'Angelo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fear,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Black Dice,
Blossom Toes,
The Beau Brummels,
Anthony Braxton,
Marcia Griffiths,
Avey Tare,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marmalade,
Kerri Chandler,
Brothers Johnson,
Camberwell Now,
Subhumans,
Crash Course in Science,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magazine,
Essential Logic,
The Zeros,
Skriet,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.