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 Norway and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 Avey Tare to the rap 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cure,
New Order,
Wolf Eyes,
PIL,
Lucky Dragons,
Nils Olav,
Cymande,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Durutti Column,
Sonic Youth,
The Barracudas,
John Foxx,
Minny Pops,
Soulsonic Force,
The Golliwogs,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Mills,
The Slits,
China Crisis,
Derrick May,
Roy Ayers,
Roxy Music,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Germs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sun City Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Parry Music,
DNA,
Pantaleimon,
Audionom,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Trojans,
Duran Duran,
Guru Guru,
The Real Kids,
Eli Mardock,
The Blackbyrds,
R.M.O.,
Tubeway Army,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deepchord,
Con Funk Shun,
Deadbeat,
UT,
Frankie Knuckles,
Darondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Das Ding,
Donny Hathaway,
Moss Icon,
The Mummies,
Derrick Morgan,
Icehouse,
Mandrill,
Black Pus,
Marine Girls,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.