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 Honduras and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Neon Judgement to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Franke,
June of 44,
Juan Atkins,
Slave,
Sällskapet,
Wasted Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eden Ahbez,
The Beau Brummels,
Mission of Burma,
Andrew Hill,
Ice-T,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun Ra,
Tears for Fears,
The Walker Brothers,
The Move,
Bauhaus,
Freddie Wadling,
The Slits,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Janne Schatter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
ABBA,
Stiv Bators,
John Cale,
Peter and Kerry,
E-Dancer,
the Fania All-Stars,
Oneida,
Faust,
New York Dolls,
T.S.O.L.,
Kerri Chandler,
Tubeway Army,
Interpol,
D'Angelo,
Banda Bassotti,
Rufus Thomas,
Morten Harket,
The Sonics,
Carl Craig,
The Evens,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Five Americans,
Minnie Riperton,
Suicide,
Lou Reed,
The Wake,
Dave Gahan,
Accadde A,
Metal Thangz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rakim,
Hoover,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Toasters,
10cc,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.