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 San Marino and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Terry Callier to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Faraquet,
Tommy Roe,
Franke,
the Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Funkadelic,
Alison Limerick,
Alton Ellis,
Dark Day,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dorothy Ashby,
Patti Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bluetip,
Drexciya,
Deepchord,
Oblivians,
Japan,
Silicon Teens,
Banda Bassotti,
Peter and Kerry,
The Leaves,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Danielle Patucci,
Robert Hood,
Ultra Naté,
The Invisible,
Eric Copeland,
Yazoo,
Deadbeat,
The Durutti Column,
Liliput,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Judy Mowatt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Porter Ricks,
Unwound,
The Raincoats,
Shoche,
Scientists,
Michelle Simonal,
Minny Pops,
the Swans,
Stockholm Monsters,
One Last Wish,
The Residents,
Newcleus,
Blossom Toes,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blake Baxter,
The Modern Lovers,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cowsills,
Average White Band,
The New Christs,
Amon Düül II,
Barrington Levy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.