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 Guyana and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 Crispian St. Peters to the grunge 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
The Young Rascals,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Standells,
Eddi Front,
The Offenders,
Grandmaster Flash,
Accadde A,
Terrestrial Tones,
Barclay James Harvest,
New Age Steppers,
48th St. Collective,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Durutti Column,
Livin' Joy,
Scrapy,
Kurtis Blow,
New Order,
Albert Ayler,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lightning Bolt,
China Crisis,
Flipper,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Heaven 17,
Echospace,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David Axelrod,
Audionom,
Make Up,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fluxion,
Scion,
The Associates,
In Retrospect,
Minnie Riperton,
Cecil Taylor,
Whodini,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
The Monochrome Set,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Sherman,
Q and Not U,
Steve Hackett,
Aloha Tigers,
Banda Bassotti,
Amon Düül II,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Shadows of Knight,
The American Breed,
The Smoke,
Aaron Thompson,
the Normal,
Underground Resistance,
Radio Birdman,
Lalann,
The Grass Roots,
The Evens,
Archie Shepp,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.