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 Malawi and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Das Ding to the rock 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oneida,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Knickerbockers,
Clear Light,
Black Sheep,
Q and Not U,
La Düsseldorf,
Stiv Bators,
Lucky Dragons,
Sandy B,
Bang On A Can,
The Count Five,
The Toasters,
Byron Stingily,
T.S.O.L.,
John Holt,
David McCallum,
The Wake,
Gang Starr,
Lungfish,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Bananas,
Marine Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Underground Resistance,
Interpol,
Hashim,
The Young Rascals,
Chris & Cosey,
Funkadelic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Normal,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crispian St. Peters,
K-Klass,
The Zeros,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Circle Jerks,
the Soft Cell,
Ossler,
Sarah Menescal,
Gang Green,
Brick,
Prince Buster,
The Smoke,
Subhumans,
the Germs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stetsasonic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
OOIOO,
Liliput,
Ituana,
Panda Bear,
Donny Hathaway,
Andrew Hill,
The Fuzztones,
Bill Wells,
Television Personalities,
Second Layer,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.