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 Sri Lanka and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Television to the dance 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up 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?
X-102,
Minny Pops,
Drexciya,
The Last Poets,
Charles Mingus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wasted Youth,
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Underground Resistance,
Blake Baxter,
The Count Five,
Mo-Dettes,
Eurythmics,
Altered Images,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Grey Daturas,
June of 44,
Gabor Szabo,
Nirvana,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang of Four,
Black Pus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ituana,
kango's stein massive,
D'Angelo,
Robert Hood,
Faraquet,
Slick Rick,
Fluxion,
Basic Channel,
The Fuzztones,
AZ,
Todd Terry,
Magazine,
Cymande,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
The Raincoats,
Matthew Bourne,
Josef K,
Eli Mardock,
The Gun Club,
Oblivians,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pantytec,
The Dead C,
Mad Mike,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Johnny Clarke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Happenings,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.