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 China and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the funk 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bill Wells,
Model 500,
The Walker Brothers,
DJ Sneak,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stereo Dub,
The Stooges,
Fugazi,
Rites of Spring,
The Pretty Things,
Connie Case,
The Last Poets,
Ken Boothe,
The Mummies,
Crispian St. Peters,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Germs,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cure,
The Fall,
Eddi Front,
Bootsy Collins,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Evens,
These Immortal Souls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-Ray Spex,
The Happenings,
Desert Stars,
Fluxion,
Sam Rivers,
Ituana,
David Bowie,
Silicon Teens,
Blossom Toes,
Rotary Connection,
Black Flag,
Hoover,
Accadde A,
Negative Approach,
Steve Hackett,
Bang On A Can,
Chris Corsano,
T. Rex,
Black Moon,
Rekid,
Ronan,
Colin Newman,
the Swans,
Scott Walker,
The Dirtbombs,
Average White Band,
Lalann,
Idris Muhammad,
Sparks,
Morten Harket,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.