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 Portland.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Aloha Tigers,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
a-ha,
Tim Buckley,
Youth Brigade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Hood,
Mary Jane Girls,
Zapp,
Faraquet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Schoolly D,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Q and Not U,
Fear,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barry Ungar,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Holt,
Radio Birdman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Moon,
Can,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Sherman,
Inner City,
Black Flag,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hashim,
Mars,
Average White Band,
Masters at Work,
Marmalade,
These Immortal Souls,
Bob Dylan,
The Invisible,
Bang On A Can,
Main Source,
Circle Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
Joey Negro,
Frankie Knuckles,
Surgeon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gichy Dan,
R.M.O.,
ABBA,
Lebanon Hanover,
Blossom Toes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Althea and Donna,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moby Grape,
Newcleus,
Piero Umiliani,
The Names,
Danielle Patucci,
Sun City Girls,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.