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 Tunisia and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Sherman,
Ponytail,
Stiv Bators,
Guru Guru,
Groovy Waters,
Deadbeat,
ABC,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
James White and The Blacks,
Warsaw,
Average White Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marmalade,
Goldenarms,
Malaria!,
the Slits,
Donny Hathaway,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
AZ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tomorrow,
Lebanon Hanover,
U.S. Maple,
Swell Maps,
Susan Cadogan,
Ice-T,
Colin Newman,
Severed Heads,
Wasted Youth,
Sarah Menescal,
Radio Birdman,
Juan Atkins,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Spoonie Gee,
Boredoms,
Soft Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Wire,
Roxette,
Faust,
Max Romeo,
Model 500,
Absolute Body Control,
Rites of Spring,
Q65,
The Remains,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Raincoats,
Roger Hodgson,
Can,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABBA,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Knickerbockers,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.