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 Djibouti and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Smog to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
the Slits,
Echospace,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joyce Sims,
The Motions,
Harry Pussy,
Lindisfarne,
Al Stewart,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radio Birdman,
The Five Americans,
Rapeman,
Neu!,
Terry Callier,
Amazonics,
Smog,
AZ,
The Leaves,
The Modern Lovers,
LL Cool J,
Gichy Dan,
Lucky Dragons,
Nick Fraelich,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tommy Roe,
Loose Ends,
Reagan Youth,
Althea and Donna,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
Liliput,
Country Teasers,
Piero Umiliani,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Monolake,
Brand Nubian,
Sex Pistols,
The Associates,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eve St. Jones,
Slick Rick,
R.M.O.,
Fugazi,
Bobby Sherman,
Ludus,
Bad Manners,
Y Pants,
A Certain Ratio,
Circle Jerks,
The Remains,
Arcadia,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Make Up,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brass Construction,
Television Personalities,
Underground Resistance,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Second Layer,
Quantec,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.