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 Barbados and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
The Smiths,
Chris & Cosey,
the Bar-Kays,
Derrick Morgan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Slave,
The Angels of Light,
The Young Rascals,
Inner City,
June of 44,
Amon Düül,
Maurizio,
Ultimate Spinach,
Urselle,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Pus,
Sandy B,
Dead Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
Mission of Burma,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eve St. Jones,
Barry Ungar,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Pop Group,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joy Division,
Magazine,
Bobby Byrd,
Joyce Sims,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Holt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Stooges,
Public Image Ltd.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Half Japanese,
Cal Tjader,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Black Dice,
The Mojo Men,
Agent Orange,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Flag,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Los Fastidios,
Fela Kuti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Modern Lovers,
Model 500,
Depeche Mode,
John Cale,
X-101,
Cymande,
The Neon Judgement,
The Seeds,
Patti Smith,
Siglo XX,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.