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 Argentina and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kool Moe Dee to the grunge 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Selecter,
Maurizio,
CMW,
Bobby Womack,
Slick Rick,
Newcleus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fall,
Average White Band,
Y Pants,
Country Teasers,
John Cale,
T. Rex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sixth Finger,
Alice Coltrane,
Mary Jane Girls,
Essential Logic,
Suburban Knight,
Danielle Patucci,
Sex Pistols,
The Doors,
DJ Style,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
8 Eyed Spy,
Underground Resistance,
The New Christs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rotary Connection,
The Velvet Underground,
Man Parrish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Babytalk,
This Heat,
New York Dolls,
Spoonie Gee,
Susan Cadogan,
Gong,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Electric Prunes,
Excepter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cure,
The Beau Brummels,
Juan Atkins,
Pierre Henry,
Donald Byrd,
Todd Rundgren,
Cheater Slicks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Magma,
Scrapy,
The Smoke,
Depeche Mode,
Massinfluence,
Marine Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Little Man,
The Gladiators,
Robert Wyatt,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.