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 Tonga and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
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 rhodes 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 The Monochrome Set to the punk 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Sandy B,
The Residents,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Quadrant,
Ohio Players,
Joy Division,
Von Mondo,
Warsaw,
Kerrie Biddell,
Slave,
The Fire Engines,
Neu!,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Vogues,
Television Personalities,
Tears for Fears,
10cc,
Deakin,
Pylon,
Yusef Lateef,
Thee Headcoats,
New Age Steppers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Reuben Wilson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Wake,
Franke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rufus Thomas,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brick,
Cameo,
Supertramp,
Peter and Kerry,
Surgeon,
Kevin Saunderson,
D'Angelo,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blancmange,
Derrick Morgan,
Rekid,
Kenny Larkin,
Sound Behaviour,
Talk Talk,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
Inner City,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fugazi,
Mad Mike,
the Swans,
Soft Cell,
Bob Dylan,
John Coltrane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.