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 Lithuania 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blake Baxter to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Remains,
Half Japanese,
The Busters,
Mandrill,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Flipper,
Intrusion,
The Associates,
Barry Ungar,
Duran Duran,
Marmalade,
Rod Modell,
The Black Dice,
Freddie Wadling,
Lou Christie,
Crooked Eye,
Carl Craig,
Porter Ricks,
David McCallum,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Charles Mingus,
Chrome,
K-Klass,
Bluetip,
Judy Mowatt,
Sparks,
The Blackbyrds,
Pantytec,
Deakin,
Silicon Teens,
Outsiders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marine Girls,
The Mummies,
The Standells,
a-ha,
Little Man,
The Names,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Swans,
Bronski Beat,
Fluxion,
Hashim,
the Germs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Massinfluence,
Lyres,
Robert Wyatt,
Ronnie Foster,
Roger Hodgson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Görl,
Liliput,
Minnie Riperton,
Supertramp,
the Association,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Colin Newman,
Idris Muhammad,
The Blues Magoos,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.