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 Korea North and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Soft Cell 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Matthew Halsall,
Man Parrish,
Fear,
Sam Rivers,
Steve Hackett,
Pantytec,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aloha Tigers,
The Dead C,
Althea and Donna,
Joensuu 1685,
The Modern Lovers,
Cheater Slicks,
The Residents,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Grauzone,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
The Red Krayola,
Goldenarms,
Eve St. Jones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Das Ding,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Velvet Underground,
Dark Day,
Camberwell Now,
Panda Bear,
June Days,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Moleskins,
Iggy Pop,
Hot Snakes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crooked Eye,
MDC,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Black Dice,
the Slits,
Von Mondo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Albert Ayler,
Sugar Minott,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Standells,
Joy Division,
Traffic Nightmare,
Inner City,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eden Ahbez,
The Busters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pole,
Monolake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marc Almond,
Wire,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.