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 Tunisia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Ultravox to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
The Grass Roots,
Fela Kuti,
June of 44,
Blossom Toes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Outsiders,
The Smoke,
The Leaves,
The Techniques,
Dorothy Ashby,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Warsaw,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
OOIOO,
Infiniti,
The Count Five,
The Mojo Men,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Raincoats,
Suicide,
Slick Rick,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ronnie Foster,
Althea and Donna,
Tim Buckley,
Jeff Mills,
John Lydon,
The Young Rascals,
Popol Vuh,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eric Dolphy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
June Days,
The Zeros,
Radiohead,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rosa Yemen,
Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mark Hollis,
PIL,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nils Olav,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Franke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Model 500,
Desert Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Freddie Wadling,
Isaac Hayes,
Television,
Young Marble Giants,
The Beau Brummels,
Dark Day,
The Red Krayola,
10cc,
The Tremeloes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.