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 United Kingdom and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar 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 Slits to the electroclash 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ituana,
X-Ray Spex,
David McCallum,
Alphaville,
Magma,
Soft Machine,
AZ,
Gang of Four,
Section 25,
Goldenarms,
Godley & Creme,
Michelle Simonal,
Technova,
The Grass Roots,
Nico,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-102,
Althea and Donna,
Qualms,
Circle Jerks,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fortunes,
Eden Ahbez,
Joy Division,
Susan Cadogan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Bar-Kays,
the Sonics,
The Monks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Standells,
Shuggie Otis,
Accadde A,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Slits,
Mr. Review,
The Selecter,
Warren Ellis,
CMW,
Steve Hackett,
Kaleidoscope,
Girls At Our Best!,
Symarip,
the Swans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brand Nubian,
The Gories,
Byron Stingily,
Arthur Verocai,
Rosa Yemen,
Roxette,
L. Decosne,
Public Enemy,
Zero Boys,
Ultravox,
Cameo,
The Motions,
Joe Smooth,
Tom Boy,
The Gap Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.