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 Maldives and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Quadrant to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Inner City,
Ronnie Foster,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Reuben Wilson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Magma,
Cecil Taylor,
Interpol,
Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Hood,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
Eden Ahbez,
The Index,
Bill Wells,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Vogues,
Sparks,
Fugazi,
Circle Jerks,
The Walker Brothers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Suburban Knight,
Adolescents,
Deadbeat,
Piero Umiliani,
Al Stewart,
One Last Wish,
The New Christs,
KRS-One,
Y Pants,
Quadrant,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stiv Bators,
the Slits,
Ossler,
The Dirtbombs,
Ponytail,
Talk Talk,
The Moleskins,
New Order,
Throbbing Gristle,
Model 500,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scratch Acid,
Brass Construction,
The Zeros,
Gichy Dan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mad Mike,
These Immortal Souls,
World's Most,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.