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 Ghana and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer 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 Hashim to the punk 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '80s.
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 T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Interpol,
Pole,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fad Gadget,
Accadde A,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Echospace,
Thee Headcoats,
Barry Ungar,
New York Dolls,
T. Rex,
Throbbing Gristle,
MDC,
Symarip,
Lightning Bolt,
Monks,
Charles Mingus,
Mantronix,
Qualms,
Neil Young,
T.S.O.L.,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobby Womack,
Niagra,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
John Coltrane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Au Pairs,
Bob Dylan,
Man Eating Sloth,
In Retrospect,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Slits,
Bobby Byrd,
The Black Dice,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Victims,
Wolf Eyes,
Eve St. Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Kinks,
Albert Ayler,
Gabor Szabo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Trumans Water,
Masters at Work,
cv313,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crash Course in Science,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Grass Roots,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Associates,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Letta Mbulu,
Bush Tetras,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.