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 Hungary and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare 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 E-Dancer to the punk 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Motorama,
the Soft Cell,
Pharoah Sanders,
The J.B.'s,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy Collins,
The Divine Comedy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cal Tjader,
Banda Bassotti,
Porter Ricks,
Carl Craig,
Soulsonic Force,
The United States of America,
Letta Mbulu,
The New Christs,
Fad Gadget,
Aaron Thompson,
Faust,
Youth Brigade,
Barry Ungar,
Ralphi Rosario,
Subhumans,
The Monochrome Set,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sister Nancy,
DNA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
The Searchers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gichy Dan,
These Immortal Souls,
Scientists,
Andrew Hill,
Rhythm & Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Japan,
Neil Young,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Circle Jerks,
Cheater Slicks,
R.M.O.,
The Fall,
Scratch Acid,
DJ Sneak,
CMW,
Sugar Minott,
OOIOO,
X-102,
The Fuzztones,
Deakin,
Don Cherry,
This Heat,
Johnny Clarke,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Morten Harket,
Darondo,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.