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 Serbia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Althea and Donna to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Anthony Braxton,
Can,
The Blackbyrds,
The United States of America,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hasil Adkins,
Angry Samoans,
Marmalade,
Drive Like Jehu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cluster,
Nirvana,
Fugazi,
Peter & Gordon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Sheep,
The Move,
Bauhaus,
Mr. Review,
Soft Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tom Boy,
The Remains,
Brick,
Pagans,
The Birthday Party,
The Dead C,
Suburban Knight,
Wire,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
One Last Wish,
Morten Harket,
Sugar Minott,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Television Personalities,
48th St. Collective,
Derrick Morgan,
The Victims,
The Monochrome Set,
Circle Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Fatback Band,
Duran Duran,
Jeff Mills,
Marshall Jefferson,
K-Klass,
The Barracudas,
Warren Ellis,
Interpol,
John Holt,
Black Moon,
Magazine,
Stiv Bators,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.