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 Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ronnie Foster to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Copeland,
A Certain Ratio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Reagan Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang On A Can,
Agitation Free,
Average White Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Harry Pussy,
Model 500,
The Last Poets,
Marine Girls,
The Mojo Men,
Simply Red,
Joe Smooth,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-101,
Steve Hackett,
The Zeros,
8 Eyed Spy,
kango's stein massive,
Jeff Mills,
Trumans Water,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Judy Mowatt,
This Heat,
The Saints,
Pantaleimon,
Jerry's Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Von Mondo,
Pylon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Raincoats,
Davy DMX,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
World's Most,
Zero Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Heaven 17,
Ornette Coleman,
Joe Finger,
Joensuu 1685,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fear,
Amon Düül,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Residents,
Ituana,
John Cale,
Kas Product,
Slick Rick,
The Music Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
Connie Case,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bauhaus,
In Retrospect,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.