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 Luxembourg and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Sonic Youth 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eddi Front,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
Alice Coltrane,
The Pop Group,
The Count Five,
Au Pairs,
Wasted Youth,
The Toasters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Moleskins,
Lungfish,
Oblivians,
E-Dancer,
T.S.O.L.,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
The Selecter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hoover,
Warsaw,
Buzzcocks,
Severed Heads,
Slave,
The Last Poets,
Dave Gahan,
Liliput,
Gang Starr,
The Slits,
Duran Duran,
Hardrive,
Gang Green,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare,
Rotary Connection,
James White and The Blacks,
ABC,
Vainqueur,
Niagra,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Agent Orange,
The Knickerbockers,
Fluxion,
The Monochrome Set,
The Birthday Party,
The Offenders,
Audionom,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mandrill,
Ohio Players,
The Raincoats,
Chris & Cosey,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Sherman,
Mission of Burma,
Cameo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.