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 Turkey and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Josef K 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
The New Christs,
Liliput,
The Last Poets,
The Real Kids,
The Human League,
Amon Düül,
Aswad,
Bobby Womack,
The J.B.'s,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Anakelly,
Slave,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cowsills,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pere Ubu,
Pagans,
Chris Corsano,
Malaria!,
Michelle Simonal,
Bob Dylan,
Deakin,
the Human League,
Sexual Harrassment,
Moss Icon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Chrome,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harry Pussy,
The Trojans,
Soft Cell,
Kevin Saunderson,
The American Breed,
Jacques Brel,
Cheater Slicks,
Blancmange,
F. McDonald,
Soul II Soul,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantaleimon,
Ronan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Qualms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
KRS-One,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ituana,
the Bar-Kays,
John Cale,
Funky Four + One,
The Invisible,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Clarke,
OOIOO,
U.S. Maple,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.