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 Colombia and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Bizarre Inc. to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
John Foxx,
Depeche Mode,
Mandrill,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano,
Camberwell Now,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lungfish,
Index,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Bar-Kays,
Main Source,
The Divine Comedy,
Fugazi,
Robert Hood,
MC5,
Lakeside,
The Cramps,
Eve St. Jones,
Tomorrow,
The Vogues,
Talk Talk,
Hashim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Zeros,
Minor Threat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Agitation Free,
Funkadelic,
The Moleskins,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
The Smiths,
Aloha Tigers,
Unrelated Segments,
Howard Jones,
The Seeds,
Fear,
Kaleidoscope,
The Sound,
Aaron Thompson,
Isaac Hayes,
Stereo Dub,
Simply Red,
the Soft Cell,
Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Whodini,
Maurizio,
Thee Headcoats,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Spandau Ballet,
Schoolly D,
Letta Mbulu,
Oneida,
the Human League,
Gang Starr,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
June of 44,
Blake Baxter,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.