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 Paris.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet 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 The Selecter to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Faraquet,
Darondo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Al Stewart,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
E-Dancer,
Essential Logic,
Spoonie Gee,
Metal Thangz,
Sex Pistols,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soul Sonic Force,
This Heat,
Yaz,
Section 25,
Isaac Hayes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ken Boothe,
Dead Boys,
Das Ding,
The Tremeloes,
New Age Steppers,
Jawbox,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tim Buckley,
Heaven 17,
A Certain Ratio,
Marc Almond,
The Techniques,
Amon Düül II,
Bill Wells,
World's Most,
MDC,
Desert Stars,
Reagan Youth,
Eddi Front,
James White and The Blacks,
Blancmange,
The Trojans,
The Moleskins,
Masters at Work,
The Young Rascals,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Clarke,
Mission of Burma,
Gichy Dan,
The Grass Roots,
The New Christs,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fuzztones,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.