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 Palau and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Porter Ricks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scion,
The Durutti Column,
Byron Stingily,
48th St. Collective,
Tom Boy,
Junior Murvin,
Sandy B,
Ohio Players,
Joyce Sims,
Robert Wyatt,
Minny Pops,
Eli Mardock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Robert Hood,
The Barracudas,
The Slackers,
John Foxx,
Babytalk,
Skaos,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Holt,
Royal Trux,
Man Eating Sloth,
Althea and Donna,
Piero Umiliani,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Zeros,
Glenn Branca,
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Lucky Dragons,
Thee Headcoats,
Sister Nancy,
Con Funk Shun,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rekid,
Roxette,
Blossom Toes,
Harry Pussy,
Rufus Thomas,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Radiohead,
ABBA,
Cameo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Motorama,
Mars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Cale,
Johnny Clarke,
Wire,
Yaz,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cluster,
The Red Krayola,
Tomorrow,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.