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 Suriname and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 10cc to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Unwound,
Tres Demented,
Pantaleimon,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Monochrome Set,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Görl,
Janne Schatter,
Ohio Players,
Skarface,
John Holt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Glenn Branca,
Eric Dolphy,
Subhumans,
Henry Cow,
the Normal,
Siglo XX,
MDC,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Parry Music,
Gichy Dan,
Zero Boys,
ABBA,
The Five Americans,
Quantec,
Ronnie Foster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deepchord,
Black Moon,
Eli Mardock,
Symarip,
It's A Beautiful Day,
One Last Wish,
The Offenders,
The Busters,
Charles Mingus,
June Days,
Royal Trux,
Make Up,
Infiniti,
Black Flag,
The Cramps,
Ornette Coleman,
The Toasters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soulsonic Force,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rapeman,
The Electric Prunes,
the Slits,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Searchers,
The Count Five,
Second Layer,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dirtbombs,
Pylon,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.