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 Guinea-Bissau and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 The Blues Magoos to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis 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 funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s 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 The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Sandy B,
Harmonia,
Supertramp,
The Beau Brummels,
The Mummies,
Brass Construction,
Bill Near,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
One Last Wish,
Scientists,
The Seeds,
David Bowie,
The Names,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cramps,
The Busters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kayak,
The Angels of Light,
Newcleus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Interpol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Byron Stingily,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fela Kuti,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dead Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roxette,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang On A Can,
Wasted Youth,
Fluxion,
Arab on Radar,
Faraquet,
Flash Fearless,
Oneida,
Young Marble Giants,
Boredoms,
Ronan,
Gichy Dan,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hardrive,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blancmange,
Ponytail,
Donald Byrd,
The Star Department,
D'Angelo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang of Four,
Make Up,
Skriet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Porter Ricks,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.