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 Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Moody Blues to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Don Cherry,
Crash Course in Science,
Dead Boys,
FM Einheit,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David McCallum,
The Grass Roots,
Glambeats Corp.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tom Boy,
Camouflage,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
Lucky Dragons,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fela Kuti,
The Seeds,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang of Four,
Thee Headcoats,
Bluetip,
Henry Cow,
X-101,
Fad Gadget,
Livin' Joy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
DJ Sneak,
Roxy Music,
Nils Olav,
Mr. Review,
The Zeros,
The Residents,
Skaos,
Quadrant,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pagans,
Blancmange,
Barbara Tucker,
Anthony Braxton,
Kaleidoscope,
Q and Not U,
Amon Düül,
The Names,
Black Flag,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Pretty Things,
The Happenings,
Fluxion,
Guru Guru,
X-Ray Spex,
Los Fastidios,
Procol Harum,
The Associates,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.