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 Russia and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Saccharine Trust to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Jacques Brel,
Make Up,
Glambeats Corp.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lindisfarne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Shoche,
Jeff Mills,
Monks,
The Gap Band,
The Happenings,
Cheater Slicks,
Donald Byrd,
The Shadows of Knight,
Public Image Ltd.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Unwound,
Minor Threat,
John Coltrane,
Porter Ricks,
The Grass Roots,
China Crisis,
Rod Modell,
Inner City,
Can,
Soul Sonic Force,
Minnie Riperton,
This Heat,
Swans,
The New Christs,
Dawn Penn,
Trumans Water,
The Flesh Eaters,
Connie Case,
Dual Sessions,
Erasure,
Sun Ra,
DNA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Drexciya,
The Human League,
Altered Images,
David Axelrod,
H. Thieme,
Gong,
Sam Rivers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Stooges,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Green,
Moby Grape,
John Foxx,
New Age Steppers,
Ossler,
The Monochrome Set,
The Divine Comedy,
The Standells,
Throbbing Gristle,
Excepter,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.