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 El Salvador and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 Blancmange to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Maleditus Sound,
Gregory Isaacs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lightning Bolt,
Sparks,
Adolescents,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tim Buckley,
Pole,
The Angels of Light,
Mo-Dettes,
Robert Wyatt,
Jeff Mills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Avey Tare,
New York Dolls,
Minutemen,
Harry Pussy,
Bush Tetras,
Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
John Holt,
DJ Style,
Cameo,
Cal Tjader,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Blackbyrds,
The Standells,
Hoover,
Unrelated Segments,
Alison Limerick,
Connie Case,
Tomorrow,
ABC,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fugs,
John Foxx,
The Birthday Party,
Morten Harket,
The Pretty Things,
Matthew Halsall,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scientists,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Freddie Wadling,
Television Personalities,
JFA,
Agent Orange,
Don Cherry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Susan Cadogan,
Lindisfarne,
X-102,
Grey Daturas,
Bang On A Can,
Surgeon,
10cc,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.