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 Benin and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 David Bowie 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 Wolf Eyes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
T. Rex,
Model 500,
Oneida,
Camouflage,
Whodini,
Donald Byrd,
Arcadia,
Sixth Finger,
Ludus,
Delta 5,
Au Pairs,
Albert Ayler,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Moby Grape,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Beau Brummels,
Mary Jane Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
Nils Olav,
Janne Schatter,
Letta Mbulu,
the Human League,
Newcleus,
Davy DMX,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blancmange,
The Slackers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Johnny Clarke,
Cecil Taylor,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Accadde A,
The Stooges,
Monolake,
Khruangbin,
Procol Harum,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalann,
The Buckinghams,
Hoover,
New Age Steppers,
Index,
Tubeway Army,
Essential Logic,
The Human League,
The American Breed,
Parry Music,
Andrew Hill,
Chris Corsano,
Gerry Rafferty,
Little Man,
The Red Krayola,
These Immortal Souls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.