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 Andorra and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Lou Reed 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 Surgeon to the punk 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Roxette,
Interpol,
Pole,
Darondo,
Andrew Hill,
Graham Central Station,
Circle Jerks,
the Association,
Barry Ungar,
Electric Prunes,
Jawbox,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Foxx,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Outsiders,
The Monochrome Set,
Thee Headcoats,
Tim Buckley,
Scion,
The Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Roger Hodgson,
Animal Collective,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gong,
Procol Harum,
Kenny Larkin,
Reagan Youth,
In Retrospect,
Joe Finger,
Jandek,
U.S. Maple,
Amon Düül,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Excepter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pulsallama,
Barrington Levy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Carl Craig,
Average White Band,
Scott Walker,
The Techniques,
Piero Umiliani,
Maurizio,
Josef K,
The Searchers,
Unrelated Segments,
Sarah Menescal,
Pylon,
Cal Tjader,
Stiv Bators,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hot Snakes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Count Five,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.