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 Hungary and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eve St. Jones to the crunk 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
The Fuzztones,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Happenings,
Minor Threat,
Crooked Eye,
E-Dancer,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Con Funk Shun,
X-102,
CMW,
In Retrospect,
Boz Scaggs,
Wasted Youth,
The Cowsills,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
David McCallum,
ABBA,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Todd Terry,
Todd Rundgren,
Joe Smooth,
Television,
The Monks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stereo Dub,
The Buckinghams,
Franke,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fire Engines,
Moss Icon,
Ohio Players,
James White and The Blacks,
Eve St. Jones,
The New Christs,
Man Parrish,
The Selecter,
Josef K,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Moody Blues,
Symarip,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fluxion,
Intrusion,
Mr. Review,
Basic Channel,
Deepchord,
Scratch Acid,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tomorrow,
Dawn Penn,
The Cramps,
Model 500,
Sugar Minott,
Qualms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Zapp,
Donny Hathaway,
The Standells,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.