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 Syria and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lindisfarne to the crunk 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The J.B.'s,
MC5,
10cc,
Groovy Waters,
Soul Sonic Force,
EPMD,
The New Christs,
Ken Boothe,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Seeds,
Half Japanese,
The Slits,
Todd Terry,
Glenn Branca,
The Star Department,
Brand Nubian,
Gichy Dan,
The Cramps,
Connie Case,
Subhumans,
Duran Duran,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gabor Szabo,
Ituana,
Warsaw,
Quantec,
Faust,
Outsiders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Residents,
Cybotron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
ABBA,
Freddie Wadling,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deadbeat,
China Crisis,
Eden Ahbez,
Depeche Mode,
Letta Mbulu,
Qualms,
Y Pants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Severed Heads,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Black Dice,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bronski Beat,
Dead Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Marine Girls,
Andrew Hill,
the Swans,
Albert Ayler,
Moby Grape,
The Fire Engines,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Victims,
The Names,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.