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 Madagascar and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro 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 kango's stein massive to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Happenings,
The Real Kids,
The Smoke,
Eric Copeland,
Quadrant,
Bill Near,
Alphaville,
Monks,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Zeros,
Dawn Penn,
Newcleus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun Ra,
Dead Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tears for Fears,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minny Pops,
Yaz,
The Dead C,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mark Hollis,
Gong,
Aural Exciters,
Kenny Larkin,
Hasil Adkins,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Quando Quango,
Ohio Players,
Malaria!,
The Residents,
the Association,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blues Magoos,
Drexciya,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angry Samoans,
The Invisible,
Tommy Roe,
Con Funk Shun,
Neu!,
Technova,
The Litter,
The Cramps,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Starr,
Monolake,
Electric Prunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ken Boothe,
Grey Daturas,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.