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 India and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the grunge 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Howard Jones,
Average White Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bad Manners,
Radiohead,
Amon Düül,
The Mojo Men,
Girls At Our Best!,
Goldenarms,
ABC,
Joe Smooth,
Cluster,
Groovy Waters,
Ice-T,
Swell Maps,
The Busters,
Yellowson,
Fad Gadget,
Loose Ends,
The Motions,
Crash Course in Science,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
China Crisis,
New Age Steppers,
Hot Snakes,
Sparks,
X-101,
Second Layer,
Piero Umiliani,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Searchers,
ABBA,
Tres Demented,
Los Fastidios,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Reed,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Moon,
Basic Channel,
John Coltrane,
Chris & Cosey,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dark Day,
Boredoms,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mary Jane Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Nirvana,
Electric Prunes,
Clear Light,
The Tremeloes,
The Fire Engines,
Alphaville,
Pierre Henry,
Unwound,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.