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 Afghanistan and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Severed Heads to the rock 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
The Birthday Party,
Mo-Dettes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bluetip,
Skarface,
Main Source,
The Last Poets,
Yellowson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hardrive,
Funky Four + One,
Model 500,
The Residents,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
Nico,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Moody Blues,
The Stooges,
Bobby Byrd,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gichy Dan,
Idris Muhammad,
Buzzcocks,
48th St. Collective,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chrome,
Lucky Dragons,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Trumans Water,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roxy Music,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hoover,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Modern Lovers,
Althea and Donna,
Bang On A Can,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Terry Callier,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Funkadelic,
Mission of Burma,
Q and Not U,
Sixth Finger,
The Black Dice,
Y Pants,
Camberwell Now,
Newcleus,
Deepchord,
Amon Düül II,
The Victims,
The Dead C,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.