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 Luxembourg and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 The Residents to the electroclash 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sex Pistols,
The Smiths,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soft Machine,
The Last Poets,
Erykah Badu,
Underground Resistance,
Gang Gang Dance,
Duran Duran,
Outsiders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Saccharine Trust,
The Knickerbockers,
The Pretty Things,
Crash Course in Science,
FM Einheit,
B.T. Express,
The Smoke,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dead Boys,
Masters at Work,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Arab on Radar,
CMW,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Babytalk,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Stooges,
Kurtis Blow,
Bauhaus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
Nils Olav,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mojo Men,
The Monochrome Set,
Carl Craig,
June of 44,
The Black Dice,
Bush Tetras,
Moebius,
Fela Kuti,
Josef K,
The Motions,
the Human League,
Fatback Band,
E-Dancer,
Darondo,
Fear,
Au Pairs,
Rotary Connection,
Matthew Bourne,
Sällskapet,
China Crisis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Malaria!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Moon,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.