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 Nicaragua and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Delhi and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer 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 grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
The Star Department,
Altered Images,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New York Dolls,
The Gladiators,
Skarface,
Kerri Chandler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pussy Galore,
The Gun Club,
Chrome,
PIL,
Derrick Morgan,
The Durutti Column,
Ultravox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric Dolphy,
Shuggie Otis,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Average White Band,
Sällskapet,
The Motions,
The Techniques,
The Toasters,
Model 500,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dawn Penn,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Zero Boys,
Faraquet,
Fat Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wings,
The Searchers,
Pulsallama,
The Evens,
Peter & Gordon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Albert Ayler,
The Golliwogs,
Qualms,
Scientists,
Prince Buster,
Boz Scaggs,
Bush Tetras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Enemy,
Eden Ahbez,
Scrapy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ice-T,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cameo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.