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 Fiji and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Graham Central Station to the techno 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Q and Not U,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Al Stewart,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sparks,
Black Moon,
Infiniti,
Goldenarms,
Lyres,
Malaria!,
Soft Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
June Days,
Darondo,
Althea and Donna,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dead Boys,
Main Source,
The Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
ABC,
Grey Daturas,
Kaleidoscope,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ken Boothe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Agitation Free,
Fugazi,
Glambeats Corp.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deepchord,
Deakin,
The Knickerbockers,
Drexciya,
Boredoms,
Freddie Wadling,
Rekid,
Bad Manners,
L. Decosne,
David McCallum,
The Smiths,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Sonics,
Kenny Larkin,
Lungfish,
Reagan Youth,
Minutemen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marine Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Von Mondo,
The Divine Comedy,
Livin' Joy,
Con Funk Shun,
EPMD,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Starr,
Pussy Galore,
Depeche Mode,
Pylon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.