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 Uzbekistan and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 harpsichord 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 Anthony Braxton to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Rod Modell,
MC5,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tim Buckley,
Sparks,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Order,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Gang Dance,
Duran Duran,
The Blues Magoos,
Yazoo,
Robert Hood,
Magma,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ponytail,
A Certain Ratio,
a-ha,
John Lydon,
Main Source,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Foxx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jacques Brel,
The Pretty Things,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grey Daturas,
48th St. Collective,
The Slackers,
David Bowie,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
Popol Vuh,
The Neon Judgement,
Grauzone,
Gang of Four,
Half Japanese,
The Alarm Clocks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marvin Gaye,
R.M.O.,
Blake Baxter,
Gichy Dan,
Black Flag,
Todd Rundgren,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Glenn Branca,
U.S. Maple,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wings,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Royal Trux,
Bluetip,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.