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 Slovakia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Black Bananas to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Stetsasonic,
Blake Baxter,
Nils Olav,
Skaos,
L. Decosne,
Fluxion,
MDC,
Fear,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Vogues,
Bill Near,
The Cowsills,
Thee Headcoats,
Ice-T,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wings,
Swans,
Faraquet,
The Offenders,
Wally Richardson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Association,
Don Cherry,
Yazoo,
Outsiders,
Excepter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Womack,
the Sonics,
Joyce Sims,
Mars,
Supertramp,
Nirvana,
Vainqueur,
Metal Thangz,
Severed Heads,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Andrew Hill,
Echospace,
La Düsseldorf,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres,
The Dirtbombs,
Suburban Knight,
Suicide,
Faust,
Bobby Byrd,
In Retrospect,
The Durutti Column,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lightning Bolt,
Eli Mardock,
Rod Modell,
Eden Ahbez,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sonics,
Blancmange,
Yaz,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.