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 Liberia and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Gladiators to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Henry Cow,
Lightning Bolt,
Michelle Simonal,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moss Icon,
David Axelrod,
Carl Craig,
Rod Modell,
Nas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smoke,
Ken Boothe,
Man Parrish,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mummies,
Spoonie Gee,
Eve St. Jones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Agitation Free,
Main Source,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Organ,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Fall,
Girls At Our Best!,
These Immortal Souls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Icehouse,
KRS-One,
Wings,
Wally Richardson,
Hasil Adkins,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers,
The Human League,
June of 44,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Buckinghams,
The Index,
The Skatalites,
The Zeros,
Cluster,
Audionom,
Youth Brigade,
Maurizio,
The Neon Judgement,
Basic Channel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Mission of Burma,
Mad Mike,
Mr. Review,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.