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 Tunisia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 Pulsallama to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
the Normal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sex Pistols,
Gichy Dan,
The Dave Clark Five,
a-ha,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Monks,
Swell Maps,
Johnny Osbourne,
Danielle Patucci,
The Beau Brummels,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eurythmics,
The Grass Roots,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Moon,
Sonic Youth,
The Star Department,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dead C,
Erasure,
kango's stein massive,
The Cowsills,
Darondo,
Hoover,
Adolescents,
Panda Bear,
Ronnie Foster,
Bush Tetras,
Kas Product,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Victims,
Nirvana,
Barbara Tucker,
Cymande,
Reuben Wilson,
Moby Grape,
Circle Jerks,
Pole,
John Lydon,
Niagra,
Trumans Water,
One Last Wish,
Sight & Sound,
Groovy Waters,
MDC,
John Cale,
Pantaleimon,
Lakeside,
Thompson Twins,
Sixth Finger,
Chris Corsano,
the Germs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Unrelated Segments,
Can,
The Fugs,
Quando Quango,
ABBA,
Essential Logic,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.