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 Libya and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bluetip to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
The American Breed,
The Modern Lovers,
Liliput,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rotary Connection,
Tres Demented,
Brick,
Wally Richardson,
T. Rex,
Soul II Soul,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Pretty Things,
U.S. Maple,
Tim Buckley,
Subhumans,
Arcadia,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Junior Murvin,
Sixth Finger,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scan 7,
The Durutti Column,
UT,
Bad Manners,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roger Hodgson,
Erykah Badu,
Parry Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Outsiders,
The Gap Band,
the Normal,
B.T. Express,
Skaos,
Ultra Naté,
Bauhaus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Infiniti,
Sarah Menescal,
Flash Fearless,
The Star Department,
Letta Mbulu,
Iggy Pop,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Misunderstood,
The Selecter,
Hasil Adkins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hardrive,
Clear Light,
Eddi Front,
Eden Ahbez,
Audionom,
Curtis Mayfield,
Matthew Bourne,
John Foxx,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.