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 Senegal 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Roxette to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Barclay James Harvest,
Radiopuhelimet,
Q65,
Altered Images,
Alison Limerick,
Funkadelic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grauzone,
Television Personalities,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
Duran Duran,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Liliput,
Sight & Sound,
Rakim,
Cecil Taylor,
Faust,
The Doors,
Little Man,
K-Klass,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
Joey Negro,
Tom Boy,
Dual Sessions,
Supertramp,
Cameo,
Roxy Music,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ralphi Rosario,
One Last Wish,
Nas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Chris Corsano,
The Litter,
The Martian,
Anthony Braxton,
PIL,
Lyres,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cramps,
Pierre Henry,
Suicide,
Amon Düül II,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
ABC,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Patti Smith,
Donald Byrd,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Section 25,
Michelle Simonal,
Bill Wells,
The Dirtbombs,
Mars,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.