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 Nigeria and from London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the electroclash 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Infiniti,
World's Most,
The Techniques,
Icehouse,
Radiohead,
Unrelated Segments,
Glenn Branca,
The Skatalites,
Fat Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stetsasonic,
Bush Tetras,
Saccharine Trust,
The Slackers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Oblivians,
James White and The Blacks,
Khruangbin,
Electric Prunes,
Siglo XX,
The Gun Club,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-Ray Spex,
The Selecter,
Tim Buckley,
Anakelly,
Byron Stingily,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deepchord,
The Slits,
David McCallum,
China Crisis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bronski Beat,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Count Five,
Nils Olav,
Magma,
Charles Mingus,
The Invisible,
Goldenarms,
Joey Negro,
Dave Gahan,
Sonic Youth,
Harry Pussy,
The Martian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lee Hazlewood,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Association,
Q and Not U,
Aural Exciters,
Rites of Spring,
The Moody Blues,
R.M.O.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Echospace,
Suburban Knight,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.