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 Norway and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Whodini,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Five Americans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harry Pussy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Last Poets,
The Dead C,
Sparks,
Outsiders,
Dead Boys,
Dave Gahan,
The United States of America,
Vainqueur,
Bush Tetras,
Parry Music,
LL Cool J,
Radiopuhelimet,
Junior Murvin,
Nirvana,
Amazonics,
Japan,
Brand Nubian,
New Order,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mars,
Livin' Joy,
Negative Approach,
The Vogues,
Bad Manners,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amon Düül,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Count Five,
Rakim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ponytail,
Leonard Cohen,
Fear,
the Human League,
June of 44,
Dawn Penn,
Black Flag,
Urselle,
Lindisfarne,
Rapeman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
X-102,
48th St. Collective,
The Doors,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hoover,
Derrick Morgan,
Blancmange,
A Certain Ratio,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Womack,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.