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 Syria and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Magazine to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
The Techniques,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Urselle,
Dark Day,
ABC,
the Human League,
The Pop Group,
Barrington Levy,
Quantec,
Metal Thangz,
the Slits,
Buzzcocks,
The Fugs,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brass Construction,
The Fire Engines,
Oblivians,
Alice Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
The Human League,
Nirvana,
Spoonie Gee,
Dual Sessions,
Slave,
Icehouse,
Panda Bear,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marc Almond,
Rites of Spring,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soft Cell,
Altered Images,
Todd Terry,
Fugazi,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nas,
Pantaleimon,
Donny Hathaway,
Darondo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
Magazine,
Q and Not U,
Sandy B,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
L. Decosne,
Idris Muhammad,
Rosa Yemen,
Hardrive,
Con Funk Shun,
Fatback Band,
Suicide,
Ornette Coleman,
The Residents,
The Monks,
Clear Light,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.