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 Egypt and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Banda Bassotti,
Magazine,
Jeff Lynne,
Freddie Wadling,
Sugar Minott,
Isaac Hayes,
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scrapy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Magma,
Charles Mingus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Buckinghams,
The Birthday Party,
The Remains,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tropical Tobacco,
Depeche Mode,
Barrington Levy,
Neu!,
Harry Pussy,
Spandau Ballet,
Eurythmics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Young Rascals,
Cluster,
Darondo,
Can,
The Red Krayola,
Sällskapet,
The Blackbyrds,
the Bar-Kays,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fugs,
Lightning Bolt,
Alphaville,
Laurel Aitken,
Ponytail,
Godley & Creme,
Average White Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thee Headcoats,
Ludus,
The Raincoats,
Procol Harum,
Sonic Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stiv Bators,
Nico,
China Crisis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nils Olav,
Sex Pistols,
The Index,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.