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 Germany and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Kenny Larkin to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Girls At Our Best!,
Minny Pops,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smiths,
KRS-One,
Subhumans,
Tommy Roe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang On A Can,
The Slits,
The Angels of Light,
Sugar Minott,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lyres,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boredoms,
Drexciya,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radiohead,
Supertramp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
E-Dancer,
The Evens,
The Leaves,
Althea and Donna,
Rod Modell,
Section 25,
The Techniques,
Tomorrow,
Suburban Knight,
Rekid,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Depeche Mode,
Sam Rivers,
Tim Buckley,
Barry Ungar,
Moss Icon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Misunderstood,
the Association,
Q and Not U,
Arcadia,
Panda Bear,
The Remains,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dawn Penn,
Archie Shepp,
Lucky Dragons,
Cluster,
U.S. Maple,
One Last Wish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Motorama,
Livin' Joy,
Talk Talk,
Susan Cadogan,
Public Enemy,
Eden Ahbez,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crash Course in Science,
Khruangbin,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.