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 Ecuador and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Scratch Acid,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eve St. Jones,
Pussy Galore,
The Tremeloes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Glenn Branca,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sparks,
Lou Reed,
Y Pants,
Q and Not U,
Moebius,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rapeman,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Green,
Sun Ra,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Sheep,
The Knickerbockers,
Sex Pistols,
Scott Walker,
X-101,
Nik Kershaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Grey Daturas,
Tubeway Army,
Accadde A,
Mantronix,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cowsills,
Oneida,
Derrick May,
The Zeros,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vladislav Delay,
Little Man,
Davy DMX,
Colin Newman,
Boz Scaggs,
Eden Ahbez,
Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
La Düsseldorf,
Laurel Aitken,
Soul II Soul,
Smog,
Average White Band,
Deadbeat,
Rufus Thomas,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.