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 Vanuatu and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Roxy Music to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Albert Ayler,
R.M.O.,
The Fuzztones,
Danielle Patucci,
Prince Buster,
The Cowsills,
Sällskapet,
Metal Thangz,
The Martian,
Roger Hodgson,
Deakin,
Sixth Finger,
Tres Demented,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Parry Music,
The Stooges,
Sarah Menescal,
Spandau Ballet,
The Misunderstood,
The Remains,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marc Almond,
The Raincoats,
Thompson Twins,
DJ Style,
Zero Boys,
The Saints,
Blake Baxter,
Ultravox,
The Mummies,
Barrington Levy,
AZ,
The Invisible,
Nirvana,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soft Machine,
Half Japanese,
Little Man,
Joy Division,
Das Ding,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Colin Newman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Bar-Kays,
The Gladiators,
Ultra Naté,
Hoover,
Aloha Tigers,
The United States of America,
Matthew Bourne,
The Busters,
Rufus Thomas,
Swans,
The Slackers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Neon Judgement,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Neu!,
Joensuu 1685,
X-Ray Spex,
kango's stein massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.