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 Belgium and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Pierre Henry to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Deepchord,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Albert Ayler,
Negative Approach,
Nik Kershaw,
Jacques Brel,
Index,
DJ Style,
The Fuzztones,
Radio Birdman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lee Hazlewood,
Zero Boys,
DJ Sneak,
The Fortunes,
Boredoms,
ABBA,
Little Man,
Outsiders,
Arab on Radar,
Fluxion,
Cybotron,
Buzzcocks,
The Raincoats,
Fugazi,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ponytail,
Sixth Finger,
Ornette Coleman,
Fear,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Schoolly D,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gap Band,
Sister Nancy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Vogues,
Lucky Dragons,
Patti Smith,
Interpol,
Eli Mardock,
Aswad,
Circle Jerks,
June of 44,
One Last Wish,
Malaria!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Metal Thangz,
The Monks,
EPMD,
Skriet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roger Hodgson,
Sonic Youth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bush Tetras,
Darondo,
The Golliwogs,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.