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 Afghanistan and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Cameo to the techno 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Youth Brigade,
Underground Resistance,
Smog,
Danielle Patucci,
L. Decosne,
Sun Ra,
The Grass Roots,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sarah Menescal,
Subhumans,
Excepter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rufus Thomas,
R.M.O.,
Angry Samoans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Image Ltd.,
Little Man,
Todd Terry,
Royal Trux,
Jerry's Kids,
Donny Hathaway,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Depeche Mode,
One Last Wish,
Michelle Simonal,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Hood,
Nirvana,
Blancmange,
The Offenders,
Unwound,
The Electric Prunes,
The Barracudas,
Maurizio,
The Birthday Party,
Carl Craig,
Oblivians,
Bronski Beat,
Marmalade,
Infiniti,
Monks,
Mad Mike,
Black Pus,
Ponytail,
Essential Logic,
Model 500,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pere Ubu,
The Smiths,
The Smoke,
Bauhaus,
Con Funk Shun,
Joe Smooth,
Eden Ahbez,
Ludus,
John Foxx,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Doors,
Aural Exciters,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.