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 China and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sandy B to the electroclash 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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Byron Stingily,
Eli Mardock,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fugs,
Bluetip,
Liliput,
Bill Near,
Connie Case,
Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
Sight & Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Birthday Party,
The Black Dice,
Kaleidoscope,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alphaville,
Royal Trux,
Anthony Braxton,
David McCallum,
The Skatalites,
Siglo XX,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Litter,
Chris Corsano,
Interpol,
Crime,
One Last Wish,
Sun Ra,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Görl,
Lyres,
Crash Course in Science,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Blake Baxter,
Animal Collective,
Henry Cow,
F. McDonald,
Black Moon,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Saints,
Erykah Badu,
Subhumans,
Sexual Harrassment,
New York Dolls,
Grey Daturas,
Kenny Larkin,
Ituana,
John Foxx,
Roxette,
New Order,
The Gladiators,
The American Breed,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun City Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Hoover,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dead Boys,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.