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 Portugal and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mars,
the Association,
Funky Four + One,
Minutemen,
Cluster,
the Sonics,
The Walker Brothers,
Soulsonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
Ituana,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric Copeland,
Brass Construction,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minny Pops,
Idris Muhammad,
Rotary Connection,
David Axelrod,
The Grass Roots,
Terry Callier,
The Sound,
Heaven 17,
John Coltrane,
The Fugs,
Groovy Waters,
Amazonics,
World's Most,
The Offenders,
ABBA,
The Busters,
Kenny Larkin,
The Trojans,
Oneida,
Dave Gahan,
Robert Hood,
New Order,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Residents,
Moby Grape,
Connie Case,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Animal Collective,
Todd Rundgren,
Babytalk,
Alison Limerick,
the Germs,
Popol Vuh,
Radiohead,
Yellowson,
Sonic Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Carl Craig,
The Litter,
Wire,
Silicon Teens,
Jacob Miller,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.