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 Mongolia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes 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 Kas Product to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
L. Decosne,
Unwound,
Interpol,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maleditus Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-102,
Basic Channel,
Spoonie Gee,
The Modern Lovers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Swans,
Minny Pops,
Buzzcocks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Blackbyrds,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bad Manners,
Gang Starr,
Pussy Galore,
Mandrill,
Juan Atkins,
Althea and Donna,
Aloha Tigers,
Sam Rivers,
Television Personalities,
Arthur Verocai,
Pagans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joyce Sims,
Mr. Review,
The Gories,
Fear,
Hot Snakes,
Soft Machine,
Jandek,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Normal,
World's Most,
Faraquet,
The Saints,
Icehouse,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hardrive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Hill,
The Happenings,
Radiopuhelimet,
Supertramp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skriet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Junior Murvin,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.