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 Armenia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Brand Nubian to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
La Düsseldorf,
The Wake,
Essential Logic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tres Demented,
The Dirtbombs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Saints,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Visage,
Masters at Work,
Morten Harket,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Don Cherry,
Rod Modell,
Rufus Thomas,
Tommy Roe,
Cal Tjader,
Pagans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Unwound,
The Seeds,
The Monks,
Index,
Accadde A,
Fear,
Anthony Braxton,
Roy Ayers,
Con Funk Shun,
Jawbox,
Piero Umiliani,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
World's Most,
Dark Day,
T.S.O.L.,
James White and The Blacks,
Royal Trux,
Pantytec,
U.S. Maple,
Cymande,
Warren Ellis,
Ultravox,
Black Bananas,
Henry Cow,
Todd Terry,
Echospace,
Sun Ra,
Flipper,
Gang Gang Dance,
Spandau Ballet,
New York Dolls,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Flag,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nas,
The Motions,
Susan Cadogan,
Angry Samoans,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.