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 Mauritania and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the punk 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lightning Bolt,
Blake Baxter,
UT,
Nation of Ulysses,
Urselle,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tears for Fears,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Saccharine Trust,
Patti Smith,
Lou Christie,
Chris Corsano,
The Associates,
Chris & Cosey,
Lyres,
Don Cherry,
The Martian,
Rakim,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Das Ding,
The Stooges,
The Flesh Eaters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barrington Levy,
Camouflage,
Albert Ayler,
Spandau Ballet,
Althea and Donna,
Pere Ubu,
Man Parrish,
Silicon Teens,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Raincoats,
Massinfluence,
Piero Umiliani,
Alphaville,
Rapeman,
Reuben Wilson,
Agitation Free,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blossom Toes,
X-Ray Spex,
Mark Hollis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Y Pants,
MC5,
Audionom,
Dual Sessions,
Flash Fearless,
Throbbing Gristle,
Spoonie Gee,
The Angels of Light,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vainqueur,
Model 500,
Warren Ellis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television Personalities,
The United States of America,
Bluetip,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.