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 Denmark and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Darondo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
The Smiths,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Junior Murvin,
Joy Division,
Gang Gang Dance,
Matthew Halsall,
Alison Limerick,
Warren Ellis,
Silicon Teens,
Jeff Mills,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Derrick May,
Godley & Creme,
Tears for Fears,
Technova,
Pylon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Al Stewart,
Black Bananas,
Sound Behaviour,
John Holt,
Bang On A Can,
Roger Hodgson,
The Sonics,
The Vogues,
Ice-T,
the Association,
Skarface,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gun Club,
Duran Duran,
Freddie Wadling,
Jerry's Kids,
Rakim,
Sparks,
Danielle Patucci,
The Gap Band,
Kurtis Blow,
World's Most,
Cameo,
The Young Rascals,
Index,
The Pop Group,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q and Not U,
Robert Wyatt,
Altered Images,
Sällskapet,
The Fall,
Amazonics,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sixth Finger,
Deakin,
Suicide,
Soul Sonic Force,
Todd Rundgren,
Arcadia,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.