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 Kenya and from Calgary.
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 Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Avey Tare to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Ten City,
Tom Boy,
Pylon,
Rites of Spring,
Juan Atkins,
Masters at Work,
Royal Trux,
The Fortunes,
Japan,
The Beau Brummels,
Sällskapet,
Banda Bassotti,
The Selecter,
John Foxx,
Flipper,
Lyres,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monochrome Set,
Kas Product,
Young Marble Giants,
Pantaleimon,
Bang On A Can,
Carl Craig,
Excepter,
Nirvana,
Niagra,
Minnie Riperton,
Erykah Badu,
Zero Boys,
Rakim,
Nils Olav,
Inner City,
Dead Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Pus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter and Kerry,
John Holt,
The Real Kids,
Fad Gadget,
Organ,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yazoo,
F. McDonald,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Womack,
The Remains,
The Searchers,
Iggy Pop,
U.S. Maple,
Pantytec,
Supertramp,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Motions,
Aural Exciters,
The Tremeloes,
Mark Hollis,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.