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 Senegal and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 MDC to the punk 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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Sugar Minott,
Country Teasers,
Sixth Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nirvana,
Average White Band,
Rapeman,
Grey Daturas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sällskapet,
Mr. Review,
Ken Boothe,
8 Eyed Spy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sun City Girls,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Starr,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sound,
Sarah Menescal,
Qualms,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fuzztones,
The Offenders,
The Black Dice,
Ronan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quantec,
Deakin,
The Angels of Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soul Sonic Force,
Danielle Patucci,
JFA,
Vladislav Delay,
Freddie Wadling,
Essential Logic,
Tommy Roe,
Scan 7,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Saints,
10cc,
Sight & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Radiopuhelimet,
Agent Orange,
Cheater Slicks,
The Monochrome Set,
Model 500,
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eddi Front,
The Durutti Column,
The Index,
Guru Guru,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Second Layer,
Eli Mardock,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.