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 Bahamas and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Bob Dylan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nico,
The Black Dice,
UT,
H. Thieme,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pantytec,
PIL,
Alison Limerick,
The Neon Judgement,
The Modern Lovers,
David Bowie,
The Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
D'Angelo,
Index,
Carl Craig,
Excepter,
Cymande,
Los Fastidios,
U.S. Maple,
Howard Jones,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Happenings,
The Golliwogs,
Section 25,
Banda Bassotti,
The Star Department,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sparks,
Gang of Four,
Drexciya,
The Five Americans,
Khruangbin,
Intrusion,
Anthony Braxton,
Youth Brigade,
Ultra Naté,
Gichy Dan,
Dawn Penn,
Rekid,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare,
X-102,
Motorama,
Trumans Water,
Eric Copeland,
Rod Modell,
Archie Shepp,
Terry Callier,
Deakin,
Quando Quango,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun Ra,
The Residents,
Slave,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.