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 Israel and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 the Fania All-Stars to the jazz 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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The Birthday Party,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Cale,
the Bar-Kays,
The Music Machine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Outsiders,
Rod Modell,
the Sonics,
Minnie Riperton,
Crash Course in Science,
Don Cherry,
MC5,
Dead Boys,
Crime,
Radiopuhelimet,
Das Ding,
Tim Buckley,
Agent Orange,
ABC,
Surgeon,
Country Teasers,
Eve St. Jones,
The Happenings,
The Dirtbombs,
Fatback Band,
The Stooges,
World's Most,
Mo-Dettes,
Kurtis Blow,
Adolescents,
Pet Shop Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Mark Hollis,
Alphaville,
Colin Newman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Metal Thangz,
The Cowsills,
Gang of Four,
Godley & Creme,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roger Hodgson,
Rufus Thomas,
Scratch Acid,
Barry Ungar,
Monks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brothers Johnson,
Moby Grape,
Josef K,
Gang Gang Dance,
The J.B.'s,
Scientists,
Sister Nancy,
Sam Rivers,
Subhumans,
The Durutti Column,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.