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 Cuba and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 harpsichord 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 Unwound to the dance 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Newcleus,
Joe Smooth,
Moby Grape,
Glambeats Corp.,
Interpol,
Amon Düül,
the Sonics,
The Residents,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Janne Schatter,
Eve St. Jones,
Grauzone,
Angry Samoans,
Joy Division,
Hashim,
Pussy Galore,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Shoche,
Bad Manners,
Lee Hazlewood,
Motorama,
Colin Newman,
Cluster,
The Neon Judgement,
Maurizio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Supertramp,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Germs,
The Cure,
Fugazi,
Judy Mowatt,
a-ha,
Lower 48,
Section 25,
The Black Dice,
The Sound,
The Golliwogs,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Toni Rubio,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Beau Brummels,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pylon,
Radiohead,
Warren Ellis,
Essential Logic,
Harmonia,
The Associates,
The Toasters,
The Real Kids,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fuzztones,
The Invisible,
Rapeman,
R.M.O.,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.