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 Guinea-Bissau and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Jerry's Kids,
Y Pants,
Black Bananas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arcadia,
Lightning Bolt,
Lyres,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sister Nancy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Johnny Clarke,
Aaron Thompson,
Albert Ayler,
Laurel Aitken,
Goldenarms,
Hot Snakes,
Japan,
Sandy B,
PIL,
Dark Day,
Con Funk Shun,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Q and Not U,
Glambeats Corp.,
Banda Bassotti,
The Five Americans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Guru Guru,
the Germs,
Judy Mowatt,
Ituana,
Depeche Mode,
The Fuzztones,
Skriet,
The Knickerbockers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Khruangbin,
Patti Smith,
Janne Schatter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Chrome,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thompson Twins,
David McCallum,
Brand Nubian,
Black Flag,
Agitation Free,
The Gladiators,
Ronnie Foster,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
James White and The Blacks,
Aloha Tigers,
Stetsasonic,
The Residents,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.