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 Cape Verde and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Oneida to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Spandau Ballet,
Radio Birdman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Half Japanese,
Intrusion,
Brothers Johnson,
Pere Ubu,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Patti Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Grey Daturas,
The Gladiators,
The Dead C,
Kerri Chandler,
Quantec,
Model 500,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Slackers,
Quadrant,
Scientists,
Johnny Clarke,
Bad Manners,
Massinfluence,
Arcadia,
Chris & Cosey,
Deadbeat,
Anakelly,
Index,
48th St. Collective,
Das Ding,
Y Pants,
Sun City Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Ronan,
Subhumans,
Eurythmics,
Metal Thangz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amon Düül,
Babytalk,
Camberwell Now,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Banda Bassotti,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Gang Dance,
Skaos,
Crime,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lightning Bolt,
Pulsallama,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Saints,
Laurel Aitken,
Schoolly D,
Zapp,
Agent Orange,
T. Rex,
Barry Ungar,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.