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 San Marino and from Accra.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Mary Jane Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Maleditus Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Mission of Burma,
The Victims,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Gories,
Buzzcocks,
Rites of Spring,
Babytalk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flash Fearless,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Young Rascals,
Theoretical Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Blake Baxter,
Marine Girls,
Henry Cow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roger Hodgson,
Letta Mbulu,
This Heat,
Bad Manners,
The Zeros,
The Saints,
The Smoke,
Niagra,
Hardrive,
Bootsy Collins,
Pole,
Laurel Aitken,
The Modern Lovers,
Barbara Tucker,
Soft Cell,
Delta 5,
Minor Threat,
Surgeon,
Bush Tetras,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sight & Sound,
Godley & Creme,
The Tremeloes,
the Germs,
Alphaville,
Angry Samoans,
Rod Modell,
The Neon Judgement,
Kurtis Blow,
F. McDonald,
Mark Hollis,
June of 44,
A Certain Ratio,
Con Funk Shun,
KRS-One,
Mo-Dettes,
Patti Smith,
The Real Kids,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.