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 Ivory Coast and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare 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 Bizarre Inc. to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
ABBA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ornette Coleman,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Associates,
The Blues Magoos,
The Standells,
Outsiders,
Bluetip,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Slick Rick,
T.S.O.L.,
Q and Not U,
Severed Heads,
Sun Ra,
Liliput,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gladiators,
Marc Almond,
New Age Steppers,
Reuben Wilson,
Eurythmics,
Jeff Lynne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rites of Spring,
Mr. Review,
Pierre Henry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Starr,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Kinks,
La Düsseldorf,
Charles Mingus,
Gong,
Fluxion,
Anakelly,
John Foxx,
The New Christs,
Joensuu 1685,
Blossom Toes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thompson Twins,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Birthday Party,
E-Dancer,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Electric Prunes,
Alton Ellis,
The Modern Lovers,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Osbourne,
Whodini,
10cc,
Tommy Roe,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.