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 Bhutan and from Bremen.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joe Finger to the disco 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ten City,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Slits,
Black Moon,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Surgeon,
Eve St. Jones,
The Red Krayola,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scion,
Jesper Dahlback,
Severed Heads,
Desert Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fugs,
The Victims,
The Tremeloes,
Buzzcocks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gap Band,
The Electric Prunes,
MC5,
Glenn Branca,
The Pop Group,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moby Grape,
Skarface,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mantronix,
Bob Dylan,
The Dead C,
Minnie Riperton,
The Residents,
The Pretty Things,
Outsiders,
Anakelly,
Bluetip,
PIL,
Robert Görl,
The Velvet Underground,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
One Last Wish,
Tomorrow,
Index,
Colin Newman,
Slave,
Crooked Eye,
Rakim,
the Sonics,
Rod Modell,
Talk Talk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Remains,
Radiopuhelimet,
a-ha,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.