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 Denmark and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 Bobby Womack to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Rosa Yemen,
Harry Pussy,
Gang Green,
Sparks,
Todd Rundgren,
The Saints,
The Trojans,
Supertramp,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Real Kids,
The New Christs,
Max Romeo,
Intrusion,
Skaos,
Bauhaus,
Althea and Donna,
The Last Poets,
Ornette Coleman,
F. McDonald,
Swell Maps,
Jawbox,
Aural Exciters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Livin' Joy,
The Pop Group,
Al Stewart,
Mary Jane Girls,
Slave,
Man Parrish,
The Red Krayola,
Spandau Ballet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Vogues,
Jacob Miller,
The Barracudas,
Sex Pistols,
Easy Going,
The Searchers,
Organ,
Crime,
K-Klass,
The Tremeloes,
Marine Girls,
Au Pairs,
New York Dolls,
Joyce Sims,
The Beau Brummels,
Grandmaster Flash,
Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mad Mike,
X-101,
H. Thieme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Davy DMX,
The Mojo Men,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.