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 Russia and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Lou Reed 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 Lucky Dragons to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Sexual Harrassment,
Anthony Braxton,
Scott Walker,
LL Cool J,
Mark Hollis,
Dead Boys,
David Bowie,
The American Breed,
Danielle Patucci,
Country Teasers,
Japan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vladislav Delay,
H. Thieme,
Rakim,
Chris Corsano,
Organ,
Deepchord,
The Saints,
Nas,
Tres Demented,
Lower 48,
Cymande,
Gong,
Can,
Section 25,
Joe Finger,
The Monks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Joensuu 1685,
Inner City,
Scrapy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Vogues,
The Skatalites,
Lucky Dragons,
Fugazi,
Morten Harket,
U.S. Maple,
Erasure,
Derrick May,
Ronan,
Pierre Henry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pussy Galore,
The Slackers,
Aural Exciters,
Dark Day,
Charles Mingus,
Heaven 17,
Lalo Schifrin,
kango's stein massive,
La Düsseldorf,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roxette,
Quadrant,
Steve Hackett,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.