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 Slovakia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Jesper Dahlback to the rock 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
The Knickerbockers,
The Misunderstood,
Judy Mowatt,
X-102,
Adolescents,
Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rosa Yemen,
La Düsseldorf,
Lakeside,
Wings,
Niagra,
The Slackers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
R.M.O.,
Easy Going,
Dead Boys,
Vladislav Delay,
Echospace,
The Music Machine,
Pagans,
H. Thieme,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Victims,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tim Buckley,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Names,
The Sound,
The Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Drexciya,
Derrick May,
Hot Snakes,
The Residents,
The Cramps,
Bobby Byrd,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ludus,
Silicon Teens,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Velvet Underground,
Colin Newman,
Ken Boothe,
Wally Richardson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jeff Lynne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Sheep,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lyres,
The Last Poets,
Byron Stingily,
Grauzone,
The Doobie Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.