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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe 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 Fugazi to the funk 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment 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?
48th St. Collective,
Nas,
Model 500,
Ossler,
Max Romeo,
Freddie Wadling,
Rhythm & Sound,
Japan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cowsills,
Jawbox,
Dark Day,
Flash Fearless,
These Immortal Souls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Byrd,
This Heat,
Cal Tjader,
Magazine,
Hardrive,
Organ,
Ultra Naté,
John Lydon,
The Slits,
Blake Baxter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ronnie Foster,
Spoonie Gee,
Interpol,
Susan Cadogan,
Althea and Donna,
Lou Reed,
The Searchers,
Q and Not U,
Skriet,
Harry Pussy,
Dennis Brown,
Nirvana,
Donny Hathaway,
June of 44,
the Normal,
Groovy Waters,
Parry Music,
The Neon Judgement,
Todd Rundgren,
Cybotron,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Index,
The Kinks,
Arcadia,
Audionom,
Pantaleimon,
Heaven 17,
Bob Dylan,
The Cramps,
Patti Smith,
Moss Icon,
The Names,
Barrington Levy,
Sällskapet,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.