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 Syria and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Lou Reed 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 Adolescents to the techno 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Henry Cow,
Marvin Gaye,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Electric Prunes,
The United States of America,
Bobby Byrd,
China Crisis,
Das Ding,
Banda Bassotti,
Flamin' Groovies,
Y Pants,
Carl Craig,
These Immortal Souls,
Angry Samoans,
Royal Trux,
Sun Ra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wolf Eyes,
Arab on Radar,
The Modern Lovers,
Rekid,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Livin' Joy,
The Skatalites,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kaleidoscope,
48th St. Collective,
The Pretty Things,
Soft Machine,
The Slackers,
The Kinks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ornette Coleman,
Groovy Waters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soft Cell,
The Slits,
The Litter,
Don Cherry,
Pulsallama,
Kerrie Biddell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Wake,
Mr. Review,
The Human League,
June Days,
Mary Jane Girls,
The J.B.'s,
R.M.O.,
Bad Manners,
One Last Wish,
Albert Ayler,
Kas Product,
Junior Murvin,
Make Up,
Iggy Pop,
Chris Corsano,
Rapeman,
The Mojo Men,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.