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 Pakistan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Sixth Finger to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Cheater Slicks,
Oblivians,
Pantaleimon,
Stetsasonic,
Derrick Morgan,
Shuggie Otis,
Blake Baxter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols,
Eddi Front,
Leonard Cohen,
Ituana,
Mr. Review,
Nirvana,
Pantytec,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marmalade,
The Index,
The Dead C,
The Offenders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Beau Brummels,
Johnny Clarke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Barry Ungar,
Pussy Galore,
Section 25,
Nation of Ulysses,
Amon Düül II,
Rakim,
Cybotron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Archie Shepp,
Procol Harum,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The American Breed,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
PIL,
Das Ding,
Black Bananas,
Duran Duran,
Eric Copeland,
Jawbox,
Pierre Henry,
Ponytail,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lower 48,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amazonics,
June Days,
The United States of America,
Metal Thangz,
Radiopuhelimet,
Quadrant,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
MDC,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Germs,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.