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 Barbados and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Vogues to the techno 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
The Count Five,
UT,
Little Man,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tears for Fears,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faust,
Sarah Menescal,
The Pretty Things,
The Names,
The Dirtbombs,
Lalann,
Anakelly,
Ronan,
Spandau Ballet,
Ken Boothe,
Wasted Youth,
Lucky Dragons,
Lindisfarne,
Ultimate Spinach,
Babytalk,
Fatback Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flash Fearless,
Hot Snakes,
The Saints,
Delta 5,
Gang Green,
L. Decosne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Standells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Von Mondo,
Gabor Szabo,
Easy Going,
T. Rex,
Gong,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Chrome,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gastr Del Sol,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
The Smoke,
Matthew Halsall,
Danielle Patucci,
Glenn Branca,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Birthday Party,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barbara Tucker,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Newcleus,
Ludus,
Ponytail,
Leonard Cohen,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.