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 Zimbabwe and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the rap 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Standells,
Skarface,
Guru Guru,
Can,
Andrew Hill,
Quadrant,
Blake Baxter,
The Monks,
Infiniti,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Byrd,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Excepter,
The Golliwogs,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Moon,
Section 25,
H. Thieme,
cv313,
Gang of Four,
China Crisis,
Lakeside,
Circle Jerks,
Hardrive,
Amon Düül II,
Das Ding,
Black Sheep,
Agitation Free,
Roger Hodgson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Liliput,
Motorama,
Michelle Simonal,
Panda Bear,
Animal Collective,
Drexciya,
Graham Central Station,
The Fuzztones,
Sarah Menescal,
The Victims,
Henry Cow,
Mo-Dettes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Slave,
Agent Orange,
Rhythm & Sound,
Morten Harket,
Symarip,
Franke,
Black Flag,
Gong,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Blackbyrds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
New York Dolls,
Scientists,
The Pop Group,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.