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 Papua New Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Last Poets to the grunge 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kayak,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Mojo Men,
Sparks,
Sugar Minott,
Jacques Brel,
Icehouse,
Alphaville,
The Move,
Scientists,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Wally Richardson,
Gang Starr,
Brick,
Lightning Bolt,
Derrick May,
Dual Sessions,
Theoretical Girls,
Mantronix,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Black Dice,
Con Funk Shun,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Susan Cadogan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gong,
Minor Threat,
The Birthday Party,
The Pop Group,
Camouflage,
Intrusion,
Basic Channel,
DJ Style,
Lyres,
Flipper,
The Dirtbombs,
Pagans,
Nirvana,
Marc Almond,
Pantytec,
Qualms,
Oneida,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nas,
The Evens,
Jimmy McGriff,
Faraquet,
Circle Jerks,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fatback Band,
Man Parrish,
Scratch Acid,
Stereo Dub,
Amazonics,
Rites of Spring,
Faust,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.