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 Colombia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba 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 Lightning Bolt to the grunge 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound 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 a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cymande,
the Association,
World's Most,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Masters at Work,
Roxette,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chris Corsano,
Shoche,
Slave,
Pussy Galore,
Lungfish,
The Happenings,
The Divine Comedy,
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Interpol,
Crime,
Swell Maps,
Au Pairs,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slackers,
June of 44,
Scan 7,
Organ,
Marine Girls,
Marvin Gaye,
Average White Band,
The Raincoats,
Bronski Beat,
Nas,
U.S. Maple,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bob Dylan,
Buzzcocks,
Glenn Branca,
The Gun Club,
the Swans,
Henry Cow,
Bill Wells,
The American Breed,
John Holt,
Scion,
Ludus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Basic Channel,
Warren Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wolf Eyes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Siglo XX,
The Seeds,
Piero Umiliani,
Qualms,
Sex Pistols,
Dark Day,
Minutemen,
Mars,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.