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 Laos and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Standells 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Joyce Sims,
Sight & Sound,
Lower 48,
The Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Piero Umiliani,
Gong,
Susan Cadogan,
Au Pairs,
Sun Ra,
Clear Light,
Amazonics,
The Five Americans,
The Doors,
Nirvana,
a-ha,
Kayak,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
K-Klass,
The Gories,
Neil Young,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacques Brel,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets,
Whodini,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stiv Bators,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marmalade,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aswad,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mojo Men,
Eric Dolphy,
Tomorrow,
Ronan,
The Birthday Party,
Pierre Henry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Japan,
Minor Threat,
Country Teasers,
The Wake,
Skaos,
John Foxx,
The Searchers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Camouflage,
Maleditus Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
Curtis Mayfield,
Livin' Joy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tres Demented,
Throbbing Gristle,
Slick Rick,
The Vogues,
Eddi Front,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.