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 Estonia and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 Jandek to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Sarah Menescal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kurtis Blow,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cure,
the Bar-Kays,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Monolake,
Hot Snakes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minny Pops,
The Star Department,
Mantronix,
The Blues Magoos,
The American Breed,
Absolute Body Control,
Dawn Penn,
The Red Krayola,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Beau Brummels,
Crime,
Amon Düül,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Sherman,
Buzzcocks,
The Standells,
The Moody Blues,
Gichy Dan,
The New Christs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lower 48,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Martian,
Y Pants,
Marmalade,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Moon,
CMW,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
One Last Wish,
John Holt,
Nils Olav,
Organ,
Whodini,
Mr. Review,
Wire,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unwound,
Japan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Niagra,
Hashim,
Toni Rubio,
Barrington Levy,
Adolescents,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.