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 Cameroon and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin 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 Real Kids to the punk 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Little Man,
Yusef Lateef,
Stockholm Monsters,
48th St. Collective,
Anakelly,
Derrick Morgan,
Josef K,
Sex Pistols,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cymande,
Spoonie Gee,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scrapy,
Audionom,
Mary Jane Girls,
Deakin,
Negative Approach,
Black Moon,
Ronnie Foster,
Rapeman,
Pantytec,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Theoretical Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deepchord,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ituana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sight & Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Outsiders,
Joey Negro,
Gil Scott Heron,
MDC,
The Tremeloes,
Public Enemy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Buckinghams,
The Names,
The Gories,
The Pretty Things,
Altered Images,
Nils Olav,
Jeff Mills,
David Axelrod,
The Doors,
Sixth Finger,
The Fuzztones,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Archie Shepp,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang of Four,
Todd Rundgren,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tubeway Army,
Depeche Mode,
Spandau Ballet,
Scientists,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.