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 Niger and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Don Cherry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Reagan Youth,
The Searchers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Agent Orange,
Television,
Crooked Eye,
Radiohead,
Ten City,
KRS-One,
Joe Finger,
The Moody Blues,
Pylon,
The Toasters,
Jeff Lynne,
Guru Guru,
The Birthday Party,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cluster,
Michelle Simonal,
The Raincoats,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
Brothers Johnson,
Althea and Donna,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eli Mardock,
kango's stein massive,
The Saints,
Surgeon,
The Move,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Groovy Waters,
Blake Baxter,
Mr. Review,
Marshall Jefferson,
Negative Approach,
Robert Görl,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Donald Byrd,
DNA,
Joy Division,
Television Personalities,
Los Fastidios,
The Mojo Men,
Minutemen,
Symarip,
The Gladiators,
Sonic Youth,
Saccharine Trust,
K-Klass,
The American Breed,
Sparks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
Pussy Galore,
Thompson Twins,
Patti Smith,
Yellowson,
Peter & Gordon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.