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 Kenya and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the grime 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Heaven 17,
Jawbox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Quadrant,
Delta 5,
Parry Music,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jacques Brel,
Anakelly,
Black Pus,
Bush Tetras,
Deepchord,
Rufus Thomas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tres Demented,
Todd Terry,
Lalann,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dark Day,
Barry Ungar,
Henry Cow,
Main Source,
Rod Modell,
Camberwell Now,
Prince Buster,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nik Kershaw,
Monolake,
the Soft Cell,
UT,
Skarface,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Smog,
Bang On A Can,
Magazine,
MDC,
The Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Freddie Wadling,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sister Nancy,
Morten Harket,
David McCallum,
Soft Cell,
Cecil Taylor,
Joey Negro,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang of Four,
Byron Stingily,
Howard Jones,
The Red Krayola,
Nils Olav,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dirtbombs,
Bad Manners,
The Doors,
Stetsasonic,
Intrusion,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.