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 Israel and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin 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 Erykah Badu to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cameo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pussy Galore,
Royal Trux,
The Monks,
Franke,
Man Parrish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cramps,
Eric Copeland,
The Buckinghams,
The Last Poets,
Adolescents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fatback Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Little Man,
X-Ray Spex,
The Stooges,
Arab on Radar,
Soulsonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
The Star Department,
Minor Threat,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultra Naté,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eve St. Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Stereo Dub,
Liliput,
Anakelly,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crooked Eye,
Al Stewart,
Blake Baxter,
Radio Birdman,
Arcadia,
Ponytail,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Charles Mingus,
Peter & Gordon,
Scott Walker,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fad Gadget,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sex Pistols,
Henry Cow,
The Walker Brothers,
Half Japanese,
Quantec,
Lower 48,
Vainqueur,
Magazine,
Patti Smith,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.