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 Ethiopia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Max Romeo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Christie,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Offenders,
Ronnie Foster,
Moss Icon,
Yellowson,
Nils Olav,
The Fortunes,
Amon Düül II,
The Smoke,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gun Club,
DJ Sneak,
Tubeway Army,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
The Index,
Silicon Teens,
The Birthday Party,
The Slackers,
Eli Mardock,
The Mummies,
Gang Green,
The Skatalites,
The Pretty Things,
Supertramp,
Metal Thangz,
Delon & Dalcan,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Red Krayola,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott Heron,
Infiniti,
T.S.O.L.,
kango's stein massive,
Cheater Slicks,
Khruangbin,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalo Schifrin,
CMW,
Parry Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Rites of Spring,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Normal,
Stereo Dub,
Pussy Galore,
Funky Four + One,
Sun Ra,
Royal Trux,
Marc Almond,
L. Decosne,
Qualms,
The Names,
Graham Central Station,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Echospace,
The Fall,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.