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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 Drexciya to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yellowson,
Mars,
Bauhaus,
Lakeside,
Alton Ellis,
Patti Smith,
Terry Callier,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ronan,
Flash Fearless,
Skaos,
PIL,
Pole,
Sun Ra,
Moebius,
The Smoke,
Jerry's Kids,
Lungfish,
Reagan Youth,
Arab on Radar,
Boogie Down Productions,
Roger Hodgson,
Cymande,
The Beau Brummels,
Isaac Hayes,
Reuben Wilson,
the Germs,
Steve Hackett,
Camouflage,
Fatback Band,
The Residents,
MDC,
Sugar Minott,
Von Mondo,
Godley & Creme,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Görl,
Oblivians,
The Gladiators,
Sound Behaviour,
June Days,
Faust,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sun City Girls,
Monks,
Audionom,
T.S.O.L.,
The Modern Lovers,
The Knickerbockers,
Sixth Finger,
The Barracudas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sandy B,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Harpers Bizarre,
June of 44,
Erasure,
Smog,
The Golliwogs,
Fluxion,
The Doors,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.