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 Georgia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Joy Division to the disco 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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fad Gadget,
The Tremeloes,
Joyce Sims,
The Saints,
Minor Threat,
The Wake,
Heaven 17,
Jacob Miller,
The Star Department,
John Holt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nils Olav,
Brick,
Swans,
Robert Hood,
Silicon Teens,
Isaac Hayes,
Man Parrish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wolf Eyes,
Yaz,
Stereo Dub,
Rufus Thomas,
the Sonics,
AZ,
La Düsseldorf,
Y Pants,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantytec,
The Fortunes,
Dark Day,
Yusef Lateef,
T. Rex,
K-Klass,
Stiv Bators,
Kas Product,
Johnny Clarke,
Severed Heads,
Fugazi,
Donald Byrd,
Hashim,
Organ,
Tres Demented,
Sonic Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Susan Cadogan,
Underground Resistance,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül,
The Blues Magoos,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nico,
Flipper,
Althea and Donna,
The New Christs,
Ludus,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.