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 Papua New Guinea and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dead C to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Nirvana,
Agitation Free,
Ohio Players,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marmalade,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Guru Guru,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Dead C,
The Toasters,
Y Pants,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wings,
Soft Cell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Germs,
Alphaville,
Au Pairs,
Josef K,
Half Japanese,
Sällskapet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Main Source,
K-Klass,
Tim Buckley,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bauhaus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vainqueur,
Neu!,
Aswad,
The Angels of Light,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Leaves,
The Gun Club,
Babytalk,
Black Moon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Radiohead,
The Pretty Things,
B.T. Express,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxette,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alice Coltrane,
Warsaw,
Monolake,
Los Fastidios,
Jandek,
The Moody Blues,
Stiv Bators,
Khruangbin,
Joe Smooth,
Youth Brigade,
Amazonics,
Slick Rick,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.