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 Hungary and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Heaven 17 to the electroclash 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Angry Samoans,
Sparks,
Siglo XX,
Blake Baxter,
Aaron Thompson,
Young Marble Giants,
PIL,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
La Düsseldorf,
Fugazi,
the Soft Cell,
The Divine Comedy,
Rod Modell,
Ohio Players,
UT,
Lebanon Hanover,
Suicide,
Throbbing Gristle,
Steve Hackett,
Prince Buster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Derrick May,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Urselle,
Bang On A Can,
Lakeside,
Tomorrow,
Kurtis Blow,
Quadrant,
Country Teasers,
ABC,
Marcia Griffiths,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sarah Menescal,
Sam Rivers,
Aural Exciters,
Yazoo,
The Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mo-Dettes,
Gerry Rafferty,
James White and The Blacks,
Wings,
Brand Nubian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
48th St. Collective,
Con Funk Shun,
Jerry Gold Smith,
World's Most,
Severed Heads,
Faust,
Sandy B,
Sound Behaviour,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.