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 Liechtenstein and from New York.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 H. Thieme to the jazz 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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pantytec,
Von Mondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Trumans Water,
Peter & Gordon,
Japan,
Brick,
Barry Ungar,
The Star Department,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mars,
Bang On A Can,
Al Stewart,
Gang Green,
Hashim,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare,
Hot Snakes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
Motorama,
Ralphi Rosario,
Technova,
D'Angelo,
Camberwell Now,
OOIOO,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Erykah Badu,
Stiv Bators,
The Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
The Black Dice,
Magazine,
the Association,
Mission of Burma,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Q65,
Skarface,
Barrington Levy,
Stockholm Monsters,
T. Rex,
Spoonie Gee,
The Slackers,
Q and Not U,
Michelle Simonal,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sound,
The Sonics,
Interpol,
Deadbeat,
Average White Band,
Althea and Donna,
Roger Hodgson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.