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 Monaco and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Tommy Roe to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Dave Gahan,
Boredoms,
Oblivians,
Bobby Byrd,
The Angels of Light,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crash Course in Science,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Wake,
Jawbox,
John Holt,
Whodini,
The Tremeloes,
The Cramps,
Scratch Acid,
Michelle Simonal,
Al Stewart,
Thompson Twins,
Amazonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
LL Cool J,
Bizarre Inc.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pulsallama,
Outsiders,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fall,
Nirvana,
Dorothy Ashby,
This Heat,
Nik Kershaw,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Intrusion,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Slits,
Half Japanese,
The Fuzztones,
Sonic Youth,
Roxy Music,
Crime,
H. Thieme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Surgeon,
Joy Division,
ABC,
The Saints,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tears for Fears,
One Last Wish,
Trumans Water,
the Swans,
48th St. Collective,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lungfish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maleditus Sound,
Josef K,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.