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 Togo and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
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 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 Wire to the electroclash 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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
K-Klass,
Charles Mingus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultimate Spinach,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Dead C,
Stetsasonic,
MC5,
UT,
Flipper,
The Standells,
Khruangbin,
Blake Baxter,
a-ha,
Unwound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moleskins,
Parry Music,
Soulsonic Force,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dead Boys,
Magma,
Dorothy Ashby,
Angry Samoans,
The Mojo Men,
L. Decosne,
PIL,
Arab on Radar,
Model 500,
Aswad,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ronan,
The Fugs,
Rapeman,
Surgeon,
The Busters,
Faraquet,
David Axelrod,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Moody Blues,
Ronnie Foster,
La Düsseldorf,
Whodini,
Nick Fraelich,
Alphaville,
Television,
Von Mondo,
Roxette,
The Mummies,
ABBA,
Jawbox,
Newcleus,
Morten Harket,
Qualms,
Pulsallama,
Negative Approach,
Funky Four + One,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.