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 Kiribati and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bronski Beat 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
David Bowie,
E-Dancer,
Brothers Johnson,
Metal Thangz,
The Moleskins,
the Normal,
Colin Newman,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aswad,
Outsiders,
Matthew Bourne,
Glenn Branca,
H. Thieme,
Leonard Cohen,
Eddi Front,
Pole,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare,
The Sonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marmalade,
Danielle Patucci,
Lou Christie,
The Mojo Men,
Cecil Taylor,
Bang On A Can,
U.S. Maple,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Smoke,
Jawbox,
Trumans Water,
Camouflage,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minnie Riperton,
The Neon Judgement,
The Birthday Party,
The Barracudas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donny Hathaway,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Tremeloes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jandek,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bobby Sherman,
Wasted Youth,
Symarip,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Star Department,
Aural Exciters,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Görl,
The Evens,
The Moody Blues,
Scrapy,
Moss Icon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.