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 Cuba and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Underground Resistance to the techno 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
Tres Demented,
Byron Stingily,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
World's Most,
the Bar-Kays,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Japan,
Urselle,
Thee Headcoats,
AZ,
Stiv Bators,
Scratch Acid,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Pretty Things,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Section 25,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
X-102,
Lakeside,
Faraquet,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang On A Can,
Eden Ahbez,
Marc Almond,
Magazine,
The Raincoats,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Velvet Underground,
Trumans Water,
Piero Umiliani,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Cale,
Crooked Eye,
ABC,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fatback Band,
Donald Byrd,
Terry Callier,
The Gap Band,
Amazonics,
Parry Music,
The Gladiators,
Shoche,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kurtis Blow,
Funkadelic,
Bauhaus,
The Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Gories,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
UT,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.