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 Marshall Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tommy Roe to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Skatalites,
The Dirtbombs,
This Heat,
Theoretical Girls,
Alphaville,
Los Fastidios,
The Doors,
Scratch Acid,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultimate Spinach,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ralphi Rosario,
Stereo Dub,
The Monochrome Set,
The Knickerbockers,
Urselle,
Sly & The Family Stone,
UT,
Barry Ungar,
Boz Scaggs,
Depeche Mode,
Sällskapet,
Chris Corsano,
Porter Ricks,
Nico,
La Düsseldorf,
Duran Duran,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Funkadelic,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Hood,
Malaria!,
The Gap Band,
Intrusion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mojo Men,
Yusef Lateef,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mars,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Normal,
Erasure,
The Kinks,
Bush Tetras,
Brick,
Supertramp,
Flash Fearless,
Tommy Roe,
FM Einheit,
John Cale,
Nick Fraelich,
Lightning Bolt,
Masters at Work,
Visage,
Brand Nubian,
Cluster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.