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 Ukraine and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
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 sitar 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Pussy Galore,
The Divine Comedy,
Brand Nubian,
June of 44,
Prince Buster,
Harpers Bizarre,
Motorama,
The Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Christie,
Grauzone,
The Vogues,
AZ,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Associates,
Carl Craig,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mark Hollis,
The Walker Brothers,
Zero Boys,
Amon Düül,
Judy Mowatt,
Bauhaus,
Black Bananas,
Joy Division,
X-Ray Spex,
Cameo,
Kaleidoscope,
Surgeon,
Basic Channel,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Black Dice,
Babytalk,
Icehouse,
Schoolly D,
The Beau Brummels,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Byron Stingily,
The Five Americans,
Gang Green,
Sun City Girls,
the Sonics,
Swans,
Metal Thangz,
Idris Muhammad,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Moss Icon,
Agent Orange,
Funkadelic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.