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 El Salvador and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 ABBA to the disco 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Bronski Beat,
X-102,
Angry Samoans,
The Durutti Column,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fear,
Mad Mike,
LL Cool J,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Blancmange,
Cecil Taylor,
Scion,
Pole,
Peter & Gordon,
Byron Stingily,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mission of Burma,
The Moody Blues,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Slackers,
The Mojo Men,
Bluetip,
The Saints,
Main Source,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nico,
Mars,
Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
This Heat,
The Selecter,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flipper,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Liliput,
the Human League,
Pussy Galore,
Arthur Verocai,
Fela Kuti,
Scientists,
Con Funk Shun,
Wasted Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Janne Schatter,
KRS-One,
Brothers Johnson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
UT,
Black Flag,
The Cramps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nick Fraelich,
Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lalo Schifrin,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pantaleimon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.