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 Malaysia and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cowsills to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yazoo,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Sherman,
Johnny Clarke,
Sixth Finger,
Charles Mingus,
Brick,
Davy DMX,
Soul II Soul,
Fat Boys,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roger Hodgson,
Cheater Slicks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lou Christie,
Zapp,
Mark Hollis,
The Martian,
Curtis Mayfield,
Archie Shepp,
Tubeway Army,
Mr. Review,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Birthday Party,
the Bar-Kays,
Rites of Spring,
John Lydon,
DJ Sneak,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Raincoats,
Howard Jones,
The Moleskins,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sällskapet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ituana,
The Young Rascals,
Quadrant,
Minutemen,
Steve Hackett,
Sugar Minott,
Vainqueur,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skriet,
Patti Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dead Boys,
B.T. Express,
Groovy Waters,
Sonic Youth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Little Man,
Blossom Toes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Green,
Intrusion,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.