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 Ethiopia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Arab on Radar to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Masters at Work,
The Music Machine,
Whodini,
Black Sheep,
Visage,
Arcadia,
Jeff Mills,
Absolute Body Control,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Warren Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flamin' Groovies,
Suburban Knight,
The Toasters,
Bluetip,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Infiniti,
Ohio Players,
Sugar Minott,
The Last Poets,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Wells,
Organ,
Skaos,
Deadbeat,
Cybotron,
Con Funk Shun,
Half Japanese,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
In Retrospect,
Zero Boys,
Davy DMX,
Don Cherry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minutemen,
The Remains,
Smog,
Ten City,
John Cale,
Guru Guru,
Radiohead,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pussy Galore,
Audionom,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Donny Hathaway,
Liliput,
Depeche Mode,
Lightning Bolt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Monochrome Set,
Faraquet,
Panda Bear,
DJ Sneak,
The Victims,
Marvin Gaye,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.