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 Jamaica and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 The Cowsills to the crunk 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Josef K,
Rites of Spring,
Lalann,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Association,
Rod Modell,
This Heat,
Rotary Connection,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra,
Mr. Review,
Magma,
The Saints,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Boz Scaggs,
Minor Threat,
X-Ray Spex,
The Toasters,
Warren Ellis,
Sex Pistols,
Scott Walker,
Soulsonic Force,
The Tremeloes,
Anthony Braxton,
The Modern Lovers,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Zeros,
Joe Smooth,
D'Angelo,
Urselle,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Real Kids,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
A Certain Ratio,
The Red Krayola,
Danielle Patucci,
Amazonics,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dirtbombs,
Brass Construction,
Supertramp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eli Mardock,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rekid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Flash Fearless,
DJ Sneak,
UT,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fortunes,
Yellowson,
Subhumans,
Public Enemy,
Index,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Connie Case,
Nik Kershaw,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.