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 Belarus and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe 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 Monolake to the grime 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Outsiders,
The Red Krayola,
Bob Dylan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bush Tetras,
Interpol,
Deadbeat,
Bauhaus,
Sandy B,
cv313,
Sound Behaviour,
Tubeway Army,
Hardrive,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pussy Galore,
Brick,
CMW,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deepchord,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Underground Resistance,
DNA,
Black Pus,
Tommy Roe,
Leonard Cohen,
Qualms,
Los Fastidios,
The Fugs,
Main Source,
Technova,
Sam Rivers,
Cybotron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Move,
Flipper,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Slick Rick,
Wolf Eyes,
Ossler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
ABC,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Mummies,
The Gap Band,
Agitation Free,
The Real Kids,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
Buzzcocks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Christie,
Malaria!,
Eurythmics,
Moebius,
The Evens,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Searchers,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.