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 Nauru and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 Pylon 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
David Axelrod,
Josef K,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy Collins,
Suicide,
Cameo,
Bauhaus,
Heaven 17,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Moon,
Skaos,
New Age Steppers,
Los Fastidios,
The Divine Comedy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Supertramp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Adolescents,
Robert Görl,
Jacob Miller,
Television,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Make Up,
The Last Poets,
Delta 5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Connie Case,
Michelle Simonal,
Radiohead,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roxy Music,
Leonard Cohen,
Trumans Water,
Peter & Gordon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Chrome,
The United States of America,
Lungfish,
The Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Wally Richardson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jerry's Kids,
Ten City,
Kevin Saunderson,
Surgeon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hot Snakes,
Swell Maps,
Model 500,
Judy Mowatt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Spoonie Gee,
Scan 7,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric Copeland,
EPMD,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.