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 Nicaragua and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Television to the crunk 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Mission of Burma,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Starr,
Con Funk Shun,
Pere Ubu,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soulsonic Force,
The Angels of Light,
Thompson Twins,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Christie,
Tres Demented,
Skarface,
Isaac Hayes,
the Sonics,
ABC,
The Count Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Toasters,
the Human League,
Metal Thangz,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wasted Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Donny Hathaway,
Blossom Toes,
The Move,
June Days,
Susan Cadogan,
The Smiths,
Yusef Lateef,
Arcadia,
Easy Going,
The Selecter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Piero Umiliani,
Tomorrow,
The Blackbyrds,
Lee Hazlewood,
China Crisis,
Youth Brigade,
Bronski Beat,
Crooked Eye,
Darondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Unrelated Segments,
ABBA,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mad Mike,
John Cale,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.