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 Guinea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Moleskins to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Music Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Motions,
June Days,
The Leaves,
Skaos,
The New Christs,
Dennis Brown,
Ultra Naté,
The Alarm Clocks,
Simply Red,
Gabor Szabo,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun Ra,
The Vogues,
Livin' Joy,
Q and Not U,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Y Pants,
Pylon,
Ice-T,
Audionom,
KRS-One,
Arthur Verocai,
Oblivians,
The Birthday Party,
Yazoo,
Television Personalities,
Fatback Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soft Machine,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dirtbombs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Camberwell Now,
Graham Central Station,
Maurizio,
Main Source,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Flipper,
Bobby Womack,
Easy Going,
Unwound,
Moebius,
The Cowsills,
Mo-Dettes,
D'Angelo,
Sound Behaviour,
David McCallum,
Lou Christie,
Surgeon,
The Mojo Men,
Clear Light,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Byrd,
Aloha Tigers,
the Slits,
Nas,
Visage,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.