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 Kuwait and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 The United States of America to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Bizarre Inc.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fire Engines,
Stereo Dub,
Can,
The Associates,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Interpol,
Reuben Wilson,
John Lydon,
Nils Olav,
Barry Ungar,
Hashim,
48th St. Collective,
The Tremeloes,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Morten Harket,
Erasure,
Kenny Larkin,
A Certain Ratio,
Underground Resistance,
Sarah Menescal,
Fluxion,
The Motions,
Bauhaus,
Heaven 17,
Scott Walker,
Charles Mingus,
Hot Snakes,
Livin' Joy,
the Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rapeman,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Grass Roots,
Tres Demented,
Soft Machine,
a-ha,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sex Pistols,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sandy B,
Marvin Gaye,
Patti Smith,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Modern Lovers,
The Buckinghams,
Toni Rubio,
Public Enemy,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cure,
Neil Young,
Ralphi Rosario,
Man Parrish,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.