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 Tajikistan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 The Searchers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Symarip,
Ice-T,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pantaleimon,
Hasil Adkins,
Interpol,
The Gun Club,
New York Dolls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tom Boy,
Cheater Slicks,
Pierre Henry,
Procol Harum,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smoke,
The Pop Group,
Unrelated Segments,
the Soft Cell,
The Saints,
New Age Steppers,
Amon Düül,
The Victims,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Charles Mingus,
John Coltrane,
The Moody Blues,
The Evens,
Vainqueur,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rufus Thomas,
Yusef Lateef,
X-102,
Judy Mowatt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Basic Channel,
Fear,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cramps,
Pylon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nirvana,
The Stooges,
Matthew Bourne,
Dark Day,
The Young Rascals,
Average White Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Can,
A Certain Ratio,
Terry Callier,
Crooked Eye,
OOIOO,
Monks,
Public Enemy,
Flipper,
Derrick Morgan,
Yazoo,
the Germs,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.