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 Spain and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock 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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
The Slits,
Y Pants,
Make Up,
Leonard Cohen,
Niagra,
Country Teasers,
Bob Dylan,
Gabor Szabo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lee Hazlewood,
DJ Style,
Gong,
Trumans Water,
Yazoo,
The Residents,
Marc Almond,
Sandy B,
The Offenders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Young Marble Giants,
Derrick May,
Sarah Menescal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Technova,
Johnny Osbourne,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Hood,
Ornette Coleman,
UT,
Andrew Hill,
Boredoms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Pus,
Roger Hodgson,
Cal Tjader,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Golliwogs,
Byron Stingily,
Deakin,
Jacob Miller,
Cymande,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Normal,
Altered Images,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pole,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Man Parrish,
Joyce Sims,
The Vogues,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bluetip,
Lucky Dragons,
Aural Exciters,
Don Cherry,
Slick Rick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.