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 Malta and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Mars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Motorama,
Grandmaster Flash,
ABC,
The Toasters,
Letta Mbulu,
Metal Thangz,
Interpol,
The Invisible,
Bill Near,
Amon Düül,
Minutemen,
Intrusion,
Porter Ricks,
Fat Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultra Naté,
Rhythm & Sound,
B.T. Express,
Judy Mowatt,
Sister Nancy,
Kaleidoscope,
Babytalk,
Hasil Adkins,
D'Angelo,
a-ha,
Swell Maps,
China Crisis,
Gang Starr,
JFA,
Stiv Bators,
Public Enemy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Alphaville,
Delon & Dalcan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Schoolly D,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Silicon Teens,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Bananas,
The Fire Engines,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Index,
Model 500,
Cecil Taylor,
Joey Negro,
Suicide,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Byrd,
Sight & Sound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Erykah Badu,
Camouflage,
Juan Atkins,
Davy DMX,
Ituana,
Neil Young,
Dead Boys,
Wings,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.