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 Marshall Islands and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar 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 The Misunderstood to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Reagan Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Gichy Dan,
The Beau Brummels,
Eurythmics,
The Saints,
Rod Modell,
Marmalade,
Rufus Thomas,
Harry Pussy,
L. Decosne,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Byrd,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sugar Minott,
Royal Trux,
Jawbox,
Skarface,
Barclay James Harvest,
Arthur Verocai,
Black Sheep,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Derrick May,
Amon Düül II,
The Modern Lovers,
Althea and Donna,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Sonics,
John Cale,
Gabor Szabo,
Joy Division,
Au Pairs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bauhaus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marvin Gaye,
The Techniques,
Dark Day,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New Age Steppers,
Skaos,
Icehouse,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minny Pops,
X-Ray Spex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kaleidoscope,
The Busters,
the Slits,
Dead Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arcadia,
Dennis Brown,
Niagra,
Al Stewart,
The Fortunes,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.