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 Japan and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 B.T. Express to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Robert Hood,
48th St. Collective,
Pere Ubu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Colin Newman,
The Standells,
Pulsallama,
The Knickerbockers,
John Coltrane,
Josef K,
Tubeway Army,
H. Thieme,
Altered Images,
Cameo,
Ten City,
Mandrill,
Infiniti,
Darondo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Human League,
Motorama,
The Litter,
The Monochrome Set,
Amon Düül,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barbara Tucker,
Easy Going,
Monks,
Stiv Bators,
Jacques Brel,
Simply Red,
DNA,
Sex Pistols,
New Age Steppers,
Eurythmics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aaron Thompson,
The Real Kids,
Moby Grape,
Clear Light,
Rakim,
The Black Dice,
Black Moon,
Anthony Braxton,
Lungfish,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tears for Fears,
Sarah Menescal,
Crash Course in Science,
Scott Walker,
Unrelated Segments,
Sound Behaviour,
Funky Four + One,
Bootsy Collins,
the Sonics,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Stooges,
Gang of Four,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.