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 Peru and from Taipei.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar 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 Don Cherry to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
OOIOO,
Inner City,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Slackers,
The Names,
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pole,
The Dirtbombs,
Davy DMX,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gories,
Cheater Slicks,
Intrusion,
This Heat,
Anthony Braxton,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joe Smooth,
Crispy Ambulance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Moss Icon,
Simply Red,
Yusef Lateef,
Rotary Connection,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Mojo Men,
Anakelly,
Harmonia,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smoke,
Suburban Knight,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Moon,
Brick,
MC5,
The Skatalites,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Pus,
The Trojans,
Maurizio,
June Days,
Nico,
Blancmange,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Au Pairs,
Archie Shepp,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.