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 Portland.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Joe Smooth to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Swans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Mummies,
Harmonia,
Black Sheep,
Sarah Menescal,
Robert Görl,
E-Dancer,
The Red Krayola,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Surgeon,
Mandrill,
Crooked Eye,
Pagans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Aaron Thompson,
Eli Mardock,
Royal Trux,
R.M.O.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Basic Channel,
Bauhaus,
Jeff Mills,
Marc Almond,
Davy DMX,
A Certain Ratio,
Darondo,
These Immortal Souls,
Urselle,
Alison Limerick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Unrelated Segments,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Gichy Dan,
The Detroit Cobras,
T.S.O.L.,
Sex Pistols,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Liliput,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sam Rivers,
ABBA,
Country Teasers,
Whodini,
Yusef Lateef,
Funkadelic,
Cymande,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television,
Sixth Finger,
X-Ray Spex,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Graham Central Station,
Simply Red,
Jerry's Kids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.