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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crispy Ambulance to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Standells,
K-Klass,
The Offenders,
The Smiths,
Depeche Mode,
Parry Music,
Erykah Badu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faraquet,
Neil Young,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Wells,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gichy Dan,
LL Cool J,
Zapp,
The Smoke,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bob Dylan,
Adolescents,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rotary Connection,
One Last Wish,
Bluetip,
Dark Day,
Swans,
Skarface,
the Sonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Johnny Clarke,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sound,
Lungfish,
Nas,
OOIOO,
Crime,
The Fire Engines,
Black Moon,
Faust,
The Wake,
Panda Bear,
Harmonia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Agent Orange,
F. McDonald,
Pole,
The Motions,
Flipper,
Cecil Taylor,
John Foxx,
Gabor Szabo,
Sugar Minott,
Kas Product,
Livin' Joy,
The Mojo Men,
Shoche,
Marc Almond,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.