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 Lesotho and from Jakarta.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Dirtbombs to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Underground Resistance,
The Gladiators,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sister Nancy,
Blake Baxter,
Mr. Review,
Los Fastidios,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dark Day,
T.S.O.L.,
Moss Icon,
New Order,
U.S. Maple,
CMW,
Eden Ahbez,
Nico,
Bad Manners,
Anakelly,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Sheep,
Minutemen,
Royal Trux,
Bauhaus,
Barbara Tucker,
Dawn Penn,
a-ha,
Von Mondo,
Matthew Bourne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Hood,
Suicide,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amazonics,
The Blues Magoos,
This Heat,
PIL,
Quando Quango,
Cecil Taylor,
Scratch Acid,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
June of 44,
The Blackbyrds,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mummies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Metal Thangz,
The Misunderstood,
Tomorrow,
Sam Rivers,
the Human League,
EPMD,
Faust,
Sandy B,
Technova,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.