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 Italy and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Big Daddy Kane to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scan 7,
Marmalade,
Junior Murvin,
48th St. Collective,
The Moleskins,
Sam Rivers,
The Stooges,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Japan,
Hardrive,
X-Ray Spex,
Gong,
Lucky Dragons,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Babytalk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kaleidoscope,
Ultimate Spinach,
Morten Harket,
Gang Starr,
Kayak,
Hoover,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
OOIOO,
Skaos,
Max Romeo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Slits,
Todd Rundgren,
Blancmange,
Wasted Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Guru Guru,
Ultravox,
Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Jeff Mills,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kerri Chandler,
Blossom Toes,
Jacob Miller,
Minutemen,
Alphaville,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Skatalites,
Charles Mingus,
Parry Music,
Von Mondo,
Buzzcocks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Los Fastidios,
The Busters,
Tomorrow,
Arcadia,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.