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 Oman and from London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sonics to the electroclash 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Los Fastidios,
A Certain Ratio,
Camouflage,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The New Christs,
Harry Pussy,
Dead Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Lightning Bolt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sam Rivers,
Chris & Cosey,
Tres Demented,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Slackers,
Bill Near,
Avey Tare,
Gang of Four,
Siglo XX,
Fad Gadget,
La Düsseldorf,
Zapp,
Schoolly D,
The Happenings,
Ice-T,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Don Cherry,
Barrington Levy,
Ludus,
The Red Krayola,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angry Samoans,
Warsaw,
Arthur Verocai,
Juan Atkins,
The Offenders,
The Toasters,
Depeche Mode,
The Fortunes,
Chrome,
Kas Product,
Technova,
Kaleidoscope,
Prince Buster,
Suicide,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fatback Band,
Sixth Finger,
Delon & Dalcan,
Organ,
Y Pants,
Harmonia,
Gang Green,
The Standells,
Man Eating Sloth,
Brand Nubian,
The Fugs,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.