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 Malawi and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Eric Copeland to the grunge 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
The Birthday Party,
Marc Almond,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Associates,
June Days,
Don Cherry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Saccharine Trust,
The Moody Blues,
Tres Demented,
Terrestrial Tones,
Metal Thangz,
Au Pairs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Outsiders,
Scrapy,
ABBA,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mission of Burma,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marmalade,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Residents,
Aaron Thompson,
Sarah Menescal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Blossom Toes,
Sun City Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Young Marble Giants,
Gichy Dan,
Visage,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sonics,
The Tremeloes,
Reagan Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Erykah Badu,
The Toasters,
Animal Collective,
Derrick Morgan,
Joyce Sims,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cure,
Cluster,
Simply Red,
Youth Brigade,
John Cale,
Massinfluence,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Green,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dead Boys,
The Wake,
X-Ray Spex,
Kaleidoscope,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.