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 Nepal and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 The Cure to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Hashim,
Davy DMX,
MC5,
T. Rex,
Moss Icon,
Television,
Con Funk Shun,
Dave Gahan,
La Düsseldorf,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Beau Brummels,
Funky Four + One,
Fear,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sex Pistols,
Crash Course in Science,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Monks,
Barbara Tucker,
Quadrant,
Hot Snakes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sällskapet,
Ornette Coleman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tres Demented,
June of 44,
Crime,
Basic Channel,
China Crisis,
Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gories,
Roy Ayers,
Blancmange,
Man Eating Sloth,
Icehouse,
Ossler,
a-ha,
London Community Gospel Choir,
AZ,
Procol Harum,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Darondo,
Dennis Brown,
Sound Behaviour,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Walker Brothers,
The Pretty Things,
Nas,
Juan Atkins,
Peter and Kerry,
June Days,
Gang Starr,
Mantronix,
Soul Sonic Force,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.