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 Cyprus and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 Porter Ricks to the grime 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
JFA,
The Slackers,
Robert Hood,
Clear Light,
Lindisfarne,
Severed Heads,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pylon,
Lou Reed,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Quadrant,
Outsiders,
Dead Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
T. Rex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Barrington Levy,
the Association,
John Foxx,
The Knickerbockers,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mission of Burma,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Music Machine,
Magma,
The Toasters,
Isaac Hayes,
Fluxion,
Symarip,
Blancmange,
Television,
Loose Ends,
Brothers Johnson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Schoolly D,
Pharoah Sanders,
Steve Hackett,
Davy DMX,
Bob Dylan,
Little Man,
Minutemen,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Cell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Halsall,
Zapp,
The Victims,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Soft Cell,
Boredoms,
Peter & Gordon,
A Certain Ratio,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.