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 Colombia and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 LL Cool J to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marmalade,
Young Marble Giants,
Shoche,
Nils Olav,
Josef K,
Gang Gang Dance,
Albert Ayler,
Sarah Menescal,
Joy Division,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tres Demented,
Brick,
The New Christs,
FM Einheit,
MDC,
Arthur Verocai,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arab on Radar,
In Retrospect,
48th St. Collective,
Toni Rubio,
Guru Guru,
X-Ray Spex,
The Martian,
Flash Fearless,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hot Snakes,
Nik Kershaw,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Toasters,
The Cramps,
Severed Heads,
Depeche Mode,
Organ,
Piero Umiliani,
Dennis Brown,
Connie Case,
Black Sheep,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Evens,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bauhaus,
The Seeds,
Scratch Acid,
David Axelrod,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Sonic Youth,
Suicide,
Neil Young,
One Last Wish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Shadows of Knight,
MC5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harry Pussy,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.