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 Colombia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Victims to the techno 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Qualms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
EPMD,
Black Bananas,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Arab on Radar,
Eli Mardock,
The American Breed,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deepchord,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spandau Ballet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Human League,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Hill,
Camberwell Now,
The Fuzztones,
David Axelrod,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Mummies,
Junior Murvin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Harry Pussy,
Warren Ellis,
Roy Ayers,
Scott Walker,
Monolake,
The Residents,
Los Fastidios,
Jimmy McGriff,
Section 25,
Steve Hackett,
the Normal,
Lou Reed,
The Buckinghams,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lightning Bolt,
Flipper,
Malaria!,
Barrington Levy,
Interpol,
Model 500,
Symarip,
World's Most,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Henry Cow,
Neu!,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The J.B.'s,
Average White Band,
Severed Heads,
Icehouse,
Buzzcocks,
Charles Mingus,
Dead Boys,
Visage,
Gregory Isaacs,
Desert Stars,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.