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 Sierra Leone and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 James White and The Blacks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Monks,
Qualms,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roxy Music,
Pussy Galore,
Moebius,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flipper,
AZ,
The Human League,
Anakelly,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Last Poets,
Bob Dylan,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gun Club,
John Cale,
Saccharine Trust,
Scratch Acid,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boz Scaggs,
KRS-One,
Lindisfarne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fire Engines,
Gichy Dan,
Cecil Taylor,
David Axelrod,
Peter and Kerry,
The Raincoats,
the Normal,
Spoonie Gee,
Roxette,
Iggy Pop,
Deepchord,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Neu!,
Sandy B,
Scan 7,
June of 44,
Swans,
Jawbox,
Cal Tjader,
The Fortunes,
Donny Hathaway,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Outsiders,
The Standells,
Sarah Menescal,
Jerry's Kids,
Livin' Joy,
Stetsasonic,
Byron Stingily,
Curtis Mayfield,
U.S. Maple,
Pulsallama,
Yellowson,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.