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 Jordan and from London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 John Cale to the techno 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gun Club,
Skarface,
Groovy Waters,
Arthur Verocai,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kas Product,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ronan,
Faust,
Swans,
Monks,
Massinfluence,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Country Teasers,
Idris Muhammad,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Erasure,
Average White Band,
The Doors,
Pussy Galore,
Lower 48,
Pantaleimon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eddi Front,
Scan 7,
Cheater Slicks,
Ronnie Foster,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tubeway Army,
The Music Machine,
Bush Tetras,
Pantytec,
The Cramps,
Pierre Henry,
Cecil Taylor,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Skaos,
Y Pants,
Colin Newman,
The Zeros,
The Knickerbockers,
L. Decosne,
Toni Rubio,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Terry Callier,
Faraquet,
The Trojans,
Quando Quango,
Eric B and Rakim,
Al Stewart,
Chris Corsano,
the Swans,
Negative Approach,
James White and The Blacks,
Blossom Toes,
Barry Ungar,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Mummies,
Johnny Clarke,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.