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 Bahrain and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro 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 Laurel Aitken to the dance 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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
The Knickerbockers,
Depeche Mode,
Byron Stingily,
Absolute Body Control,
Silicon Teens,
The Busters,
Minor Threat,
ABC,
Judy Mowatt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lyres,
Johnny Osbourne,
Q and Not U,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amon Düül II,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris Corsano,
T. Rex,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Procol Harum,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Index,
Tom Boy,
Bill Near,
Ossler,
Ultravox,
Urselle,
Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
Morten Harket,
Magma,
The Real Kids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eli Mardock,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oneida,
Brass Construction,
D'Angelo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
EPMD,
Letta Mbulu,
The Velvet Underground,
Prince Buster,
Pussy Galore,
Alice Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jandek,
Country Teasers,
The Residents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ponytail,
Eve St. Jones,
Donny Hathaway,
The Toasters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.