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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 8 Eyed Spy 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Sugar Minott,
Von Mondo,
Robert Wyatt,
Television,
Connie Case,
Dead Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Smiths,
Swell Maps,
The Dirtbombs,
Tomorrow,
Roxette,
Toni Rubio,
The Electric Prunes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Lynne,
U.S. Maple,
Aloha Tigers,
The Residents,
The Standells,
Hashim,
Ornette Coleman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vladislav Delay,
48th St. Collective,
Max Romeo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Todd Terry,
DJ Sneak,
F. McDonald,
The Black Dice,
Infiniti,
Lou Christie,
The Sound,
A Certain Ratio,
The Doors,
Basic Channel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Slave,
The Last Poets,
E-Dancer,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wally Richardson,
Chris Corsano,
The Zeros,
David Axelrod,
Ken Boothe,
Stetsasonic,
the Association,
Livin' Joy,
Quando Quango,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.