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 Austria and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wake to the rock 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Donald Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delta 5,
Patti Smith,
Moebius,
The Smoke,
Scratch Acid,
Barbara Tucker,
The Motions,
Monolake,
The Saints,
David Axelrod,
the Bar-Kays,
Zero Boys,
Loose Ends,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Green,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wasted Youth,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fortunes,
Bauhaus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angry Samoans,
The Mummies,
Delon & Dalcan,
Deepchord,
UT,
The Five Americans,
The Associates,
Heaven 17,
Model 500,
Kenny Larkin,
The Happenings,
The Real Kids,
Rod Modell,
Mark Hollis,
Quadrant,
Wally Richardson,
New Order,
the Fania All-Stars,
Newcleus,
X-Ray Spex,
Ornette Coleman,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Sherman,
X-102,
The Barracudas,
Sällskapet,
Main Source,
The Cramps,
Sugar Minott,
The Sonics,
Nico,
Unwound,
Matthew Halsall,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Blake Baxter,
Leonard Cohen,
Dual Sessions,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.