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 Oman and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 The Selecter to the electroclash 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Prince Buster,
Monolake,
Tres Demented,
The Fuzztones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang Green,
Derrick May,
Boz Scaggs,
Glenn Branca,
The Electric Prunes,
Interpol,
Saccharine Trust,
Von Mondo,
Hasil Adkins,
Bob Dylan,
Eric Copeland,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arthur Verocai,
Shoche,
Anthony Braxton,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Moon,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerri Chandler,
Throbbing Gristle,
Franke,
Q65,
The Gladiators,
Pagans,
Pulsallama,
Wings,
Rhythm & Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joyce Sims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Man Parrish,
Iggy Pop,
Rapeman,
Rosa Yemen,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacques Brel,
Boogie Down Productions,
Buzzcocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Quando Quango,
Lakeside,
Sex Pistols,
Joe Smooth,
Davy DMX,
Judy Mowatt,
Matthew Bourne,
The Beau Brummels,
F. McDonald,
Masters at Work,
Don Cherry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Letta Mbulu,
Massinfluence,
The Zeros,
Young Marble Giants,
Agent Orange,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.