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 Maldives and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Joe Finger to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Spoonie Gee,
The Five Americans,
Sandy B,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Parry Music,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
Rod Modell,
Cymande,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eli Mardock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Agent Orange,
Von Mondo,
Dark Day,
Pagans,
Pierre Henry,
R.M.O.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yaz,
Pylon,
Erasure,
Cameo,
Bobby Sherman,
Rakim,
The Star Department,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
The Standells,
Sugar Minott,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Raincoats,
Fugazi,
Whodini,
Al Stewart,
Alison Limerick,
Ohio Players,
The Evens,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Techniques,
Girls At Our Best!,
These Immortal Souls,
the Bar-Kays,
Susan Cadogan,
Amazonics,
Althea and Donna,
Simply Red,
The Real Kids,
Deakin,
The Residents,
Cheater Slicks,
Isaac Hayes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Q and Not U,
F. McDonald,
the Human League,
Swell Maps,
Icehouse,
Albert Ayler,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.