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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dead Boys to the grunge 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Remains,
Patti Smith,
Todd Terry,
The Knickerbockers,
Eurythmics,
Bootsy Collins,
Althea and Donna,
Blake Baxter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Agitation Free,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pere Ubu,
Al Stewart,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Arthur Verocai,
Joe Finger,
The Cure,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sonic Youth,
Lou Christie,
Barry Ungar,
The Monochrome Set,
Boredoms,
Isaac Hayes,
Symarip,
Arcadia,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wally Richardson,
Angry Samoans,
Josef K,
Loose Ends,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gichy Dan,
Harmonia,
Can,
Drexciya,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Archie Shepp,
The Young Rascals,
The Modern Lovers,
Silicon Teens,
Minnie Riperton,
The Count Five,
Monks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Howard Jones,
The American Breed,
Lebanon Hanover,
Parry Music,
Echospace,
Bob Dylan,
Leonard Cohen,
The Stooges,
Pussy Galore,
Interpol,
June Days,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Music Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flash Fearless,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.