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 Marshall Islands and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Tres Demented,
Depeche Mode,
Ken Boothe,
The Velvet Underground,
Drive Like Jehu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Underground Resistance,
FM Einheit,
F. McDonald,
Sixth Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masters at Work,
Black Flag,
Laurel Aitken,
Fat Boys,
Nirvana,
Rod Modell,
Arab on Radar,
Buzzcocks,
The Durutti Column,
Ludus,
The Dead C,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
R.M.O.,
The Black Dice,
Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
Duran Duran,
Oblivians,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eddi Front,
Andrew Hill,
Mark Hollis,
Scott Walker,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ituana,
Ossler,
Jeru the Damaja,
Neu!,
OOIOO,
Symarip,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
Dennis Brown,
Cecil Taylor,
Intrusion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bauhaus,
The Tremeloes,
The Move,
Electric Prunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Residents,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heaven 17,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Finger,
the Human League,
Simply Red,
Thompson Twins,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.