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 Saudi Arabia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
the Association,
the Germs,
Shoche,
Brass Construction,
The Last Poets,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crime,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Moleskins,
The Beau Brummels,
Andrew Hill,
World's Most,
CMW,
Ronan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Harmonia,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rufus Thomas,
Byron Stingily,
Los Fastidios,
Scan 7,
Sällskapet,
Reagan Youth,
Intrusion,
Stereo Dub,
Organ,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Hutcherson,
U.S. Maple,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Man Parrish,
Sixth Finger,
K-Klass,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Anakelly,
Basic Channel,
David McCallum,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Byrd,
JFA,
Surgeon,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ornette Coleman,
Little Man,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Symarip,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
KRS-One,
Popol Vuh,
Sound Behaviour,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
Suicide,
Kaleidoscope,
John Cale,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.