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 Seychelles and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Lebanon Hanover to the rap 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Barracudas,
Lou Christie,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
Urselle,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Make Up,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harry Pussy,
Organ,
The Five Americans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Piero Umiliani,
Faust,
UT,
Altered Images,
Sun City Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sight & Sound,
Tres Demented,
Electric Prunes,
Hot Snakes,
Index,
Malaria!,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Aural Exciters,
Radiohead,
Inner City,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Sherman,
Outsiders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
New Order,
E-Dancer,
the Swans,
The Names,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Birthday Party,
The Move,
Agitation Free,
Alphaville,
the Sonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Y Pants,
The Dirtbombs,
Little Man,
Porter Ricks,
Basic Channel,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Japan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.