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 Venezuela and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 Fatback Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Fatback Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Blues Magoos,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Magma,
David McCallum,
Intrusion,
Duran Duran,
John Lydon,
Main Source,
Banda Bassotti,
Hasil Adkins,
The Victims,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Monks,
Motorama,
Gil Scott Heron,
MDC,
Minutemen,
The Walker Brothers,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cowsills,
Boz Scaggs,
Ornette Coleman,
Bluetip,
Tom Boy,
K-Klass,
Brick,
Interpol,
Suburban Knight,
Country Teasers,
Scientists,
Hot Snakes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Slits,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Pylon,
Janne Schatter,
Eurythmics,
Jesper Dahlback,
David Bowie,
Johnny Clarke,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Whodini,
The Golliwogs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
kango's stein massive,
Clear Light,
the Germs,
Eddi Front,
Crime,
Mad Mike,
John Cale,
Tres Demented,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gabor Szabo,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.