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 Uruguay and from Cairo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Delhi.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Scan 7 to the grime 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Nils Olav,
X-102,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Pretty Things,
Section 25,
John Foxx,
Hasil Adkins,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ten City,
Suburban Knight,
The Real Kids,
Cameo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Anakelly,
Los Fastidios,
The Buckinghams,
Ohio Players,
Todd Rundgren,
The Residents,
Joey Negro,
Rites of Spring,
The Gun Club,
The Offenders,
X-101,
Duran Duran,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marmalade,
Donny Hathaway,
Das Ding,
Black Pus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Trumans Water,
Bush Tetras,
Joensuu 1685,
Danielle Patucci,
Audionom,
Eurythmics,
Radio Birdman,
Agitation Free,
Brothers Johnson,
Soul II Soul,
Matthew Halsall,
Pantaleimon,
The Modern Lovers,
Wally Richardson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stereo Dub,
The Sound,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter & Gordon,
Boredoms,
Junior Murvin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Oblivians,
Surgeon,
Severed Heads,
Bob Dylan,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.