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 France and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Altered Images to the grime 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Archie Shepp,
Wasted Youth,
Inner City,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Normal,
Whodini,
Ossler,
This Heat,
Neil Young,
the Germs,
Panda Bear,
Glenn Branca,
ABBA,
Terry Callier,
Warren Ellis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pole,
U.S. Maple,
The Martian,
The Techniques,
OOIOO,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
The Stooges,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Golliwogs,
Sight & Sound,
Accadde A,
Kool Moe Dee,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantytec,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minnie Riperton,
The Leaves,
Theoretical Girls,
Television,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tim Buckley,
Erykah Badu,
Idris Muhammad,
Talk Talk,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Terry,
DJ Sneak,
Mission of Burma,
Deakin,
Robert Hood,
Bush Tetras,
Technova,
The Litter,
Sound Behaviour,
Interpol,
The Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grey Daturas,
Ornette Coleman,
The Offenders,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.