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 Switzerland and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro 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 The Flesh Eaters to the grunge 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
The Smiths,
Maurizio,
Clear Light,
Trumans Water,
Lyres,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nik Kershaw,
Alison Limerick,
The Fall,
The Cramps,
Fatback Band,
the Normal,
Arab on Radar,
Cecil Taylor,
Organ,
The Blackbyrds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Alice Coltrane,
Roxette,
Cybotron,
Gang Starr,
Sonic Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
48th St. Collective,
Cameo,
T. Rex,
Arthur Verocai,
Rosa Yemen,
Mantronix,
The Kinks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Procol Harum,
The Techniques,
Popol Vuh,
The Human League,
AZ,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Martian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Donny Hathaway,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Magazine,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rites of Spring,
Don Cherry,
F. McDonald,
Infiniti,
The Toasters,
KRS-One,
T.S.O.L.,
Radio Birdman,
Depeche Mode,
The Searchers,
DNA,
Masters at Work,
D'Angelo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Near,
Ten City,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.