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 Sierra Leone and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 Lindisfarne to the grunge 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Lalann,
Steve Hackett,
Funky Four + One,
The Tremeloes,
Roxy Music,
Peter & Gordon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
Newcleus,
The Moleskins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Motorama,
The Invisible,
Zapp,
Jandek,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
KRS-One,
Slave,
One Last Wish,
E-Dancer,
Ohio Players,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Little Man,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultravox,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ronan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aural Exciters,
Gong,
Sandy B,
The Divine Comedy,
Spandau Ballet,
Oblivians,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roger Hodgson,
Minutemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultimate Spinach,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nirvana,
The Sonics,
Adolescents,
ABC,
Arthur Verocai,
The Mummies,
Franke,
June Days,
Camouflage,
Cymande,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Don Cherry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kurtis Blow,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.