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 Ukraine and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
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 Captain Beefheart 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 Agitation Free to the dance 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lungfish,
The Cramps,
Gabor Szabo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Iggy Pop,
Fatback Band,
Desert Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Delta 5,
Dawn Penn,
Letta Mbulu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crooked Eye,
Nils Olav,
Donald Byrd,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Drexciya,
Reagan Youth,
The Move,
Tom Boy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dead Boys,
Organ,
Heaven 17,
Bob Dylan,
Erasure,
Tommy Roe,
Cymande,
Los Fastidios,
Bronski Beat,
Ten City,
New York Dolls,
Ponytail,
Suburban Knight,
Brick,
Black Flag,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scrapy,
Sight & Sound,
Oblivians,
Prince Buster,
Jerry's Kids,
Youth Brigade,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Symarip,
10cc,
Blossom Toes,
The Gun Club,
Gregory Isaacs,
Steve Hackett,
The Doors,
Audionom,
Slick Rick,
The Birthday Party,
Freddie Wadling,
Lebanon Hanover,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.