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 Venezuela and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro 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 Spoonie Gee to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Gerry Rafferty,
F. McDonald,
Black Pus,
Aswad,
Television,
Sugar Minott,
The Barracudas,
Grauzone,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Das Ding,
The Cowsills,
10cc,
Niagra,
Underground Resistance,
Kerri Chandler,
Godley & Creme,
The Cure,
Henry Cow,
The Count Five,
Crooked Eye,
Hardrive,
New Order,
The Buckinghams,
Morten Harket,
Mary Jane Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blake Baxter,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare,
Kenny Larkin,
Con Funk Shun,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dennis Brown,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skarface,
Ronnie Foster,
The Standells,
Cheater Slicks,
The Kinks,
Roxette,
DJ Style,
the Soft Cell,
The Seeds,
La Düsseldorf,
Nation of Ulysses,
Girls At Our Best!,
Michelle Simonal,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Accadde A,
Q65,
Fatback Band,
MC5,
Saccharine Trust,
One Last Wish,
Albert Ayler,
The Star Department,
Hasil Adkins,
Amon Düül,
Anakelly,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.