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 Cape Verde and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Theoretical Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Kinks,
Marc Almond,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jawbox,
Thee Headcoats,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oblivians,
The Black Dice,
Albert Ayler,
Buzzcocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Terry Callier,
Rosa Yemen,
The Happenings,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hot Snakes,
Yaz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Wyatt,
Todd Rundgren,
Janne Schatter,
Nirvana,
Eric Copeland,
The Names,
Boogie Down Productions,
Freddie Wadling,
Chris Corsano,
Underground Resistance,
Technova,
Max Romeo,
Black Bananas,
Wolf Eyes,
Intrusion,
Bang On A Can,
The Count Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bad Manners,
Babytalk,
Black Moon,
Thompson Twins,
Cameo,
Kas Product,
Andrew Hill,
Michelle Simonal,
DJ Sneak,
Bill Near,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Trumans Water,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rakim,
The United States of America,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
B.T. Express,
Gang of Four,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Desert Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Magazine,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.