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 Lebanon and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin 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 The Electric Prunes to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fugazi,
Trumans Water,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Agent Orange,
Joensuu 1685,
Darondo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lucky Dragons,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Black Dice,
Andrew Hill,
Leonard Cohen,
Alton Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Offenders,
Tom Boy,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Womack,
Don Cherry,
Lower 48,
E-Dancer,
Lakeside,
Ice-T,
Audionom,
Eli Mardock,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deadbeat,
Jacques Brel,
Max Romeo,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cramps,
The Young Rascals,
Pylon,
Flash Fearless,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
Duran Duran,
Television Personalities,
Lou Reed,
David Axelrod,
Royal Trux,
The Fortunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fear,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crooked Eye,
The Fuzztones,
Juan Atkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
Wally Richardson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nick Fraelich,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wasted Youth,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.