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 Mozambique and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 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 Cameo to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Altered Images,
Cymande,
Roxy Music,
Dead Boys,
Desert Stars,
Jandek,
Severed Heads,
Camberwell Now,
Iggy Pop,
Magma,
Kerri Chandler,
Sonic Youth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sound,
The Happenings,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Smog,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Foxx,
Deadbeat,
Alice Coltrane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Terry Callier,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Max Romeo,
John Cale,
Eve St. Jones,
Minutemen,
Pantaleimon,
Spandau Ballet,
The Blues Magoos,
Moby Grape,
The United States of America,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Mummies,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Colin Newman,
Juan Atkins,
Eli Mardock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brothers Johnson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wings,
New York Dolls,
Symarip,
Sugar Minott,
Das Ding,
The Saints,
The Detroit Cobras,
Outsiders,
June of 44,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Offenders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sound Behaviour,
Loose Ends,
Dark Day,
Magazine,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.