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 Palau and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Misunderstood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
The Names,
Mission of Burma,
Roy Ayers,
Pierre Henry,
Pylon,
Alison Limerick,
the Swans,
The Mummies,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nick Fraelich,
Simply Red,
Sonic Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Ken Boothe,
Echospace,
The Martian,
Mark Hollis,
The Standells,
Whodini,
The Stooges,
Eyeless In Gaza,
China Crisis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-101,
Pere Ubu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mad Mike,
U.S. Maple,
The Monks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New York Dolls,
The Fire Engines,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Almond,
Sällskapet,
The J.B.'s,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joy Division,
The Barracudas,
Supertramp,
Aural Exciters,
Rites of Spring,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Neon Judgement,
Freddie Wadling,
The Pop Group,
Liliput,
New Order,
Black Bananas,
Hashim,
Gang Green,
Subhumans,
Suicide,
Darondo,
Jerry's Kids,
Little Man,
Tim Buckley,
La Düsseldorf,
Brothers Johnson,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.