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 Colombia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Girls At Our Best! to the electroclash 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 Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Blancmange,
The Leaves,
Lou Christie,
Black Sheep,
Brothers Johnson,
The Modern Lovers,
Marvin Gaye,
cv313,
The Cure,
The Motions,
Eddi Front,
D'Angelo,
These Immortal Souls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Donald Byrd,
Dawn Penn,
Spandau Ballet,
Mission of Burma,
Trumans Water,
Lou Reed,
Rufus Thomas,
Procol Harum,
Second Layer,
U.S. Maple,
Guru Guru,
Crooked Eye,
Liliput,
The Vogues,
The Grass Roots,
Siglo XX,
Symarip,
Joensuu 1685,
Marine Girls,
B.T. Express,
Public Enemy,
Jerry's Kids,
Tim Buckley,
Maurizio,
The Fortunes,
The Moleskins,
Aural Exciters,
T. Rex,
Silicon Teens,
Jandek,
The Wake,
Sugar Minott,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Move,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Music Machine,
Nas,
X-101,
Man Parrish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Basic Channel,
The Kinks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Darondo,
Nirvana,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.