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 Madagascar and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Aural Exciters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deadbeat,
In Retrospect,
DNA,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Tremeloes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arthur Verocai,
CMW,
Altered Images,
Hot Snakes,
Young Marble Giants,
Severed Heads,
Monks,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Busters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Hood,
Tropical Tobacco,
Schoolly D,
The Fortunes,
PIL,
Pagans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Steve Hackett,
OOIOO,
the Soft Cell,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare,
a-ha,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultra Naté,
Youth Brigade,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang of Four,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Darondo,
Aaron Thompson,
Funkadelic,
Barbara Tucker,
Delta 5,
Cheater Slicks,
MC5,
Leonard Cohen,
Skriet,
Judy Mowatt,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Bar-Kays,
Sight & Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Unwound,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mark Hollis,
Japan,
Porter Ricks,
the Germs,
Scratch Acid,
Lucky Dragons,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.