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 Solomon Islands and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Brand Nubian to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cybotron,
Bill Wells,
Stetsasonic,
Dark Day,
The Durutti Column,
Duran Duran,
UT,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Starr,
Roger Hodgson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Bananas,
T. Rex,
Oneida,
Animal Collective,
John Cale,
Scan 7,
Cameo,
Pylon,
The Kinks,
The Selecter,
Surgeon,
Faust,
Fela Kuti,
Technova,
Drive Like Jehu,
Echospace,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Byrd,
Von Mondo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scientists,
Brand Nubian,
The Gun Club,
Ten City,
The Gladiators,
Quadrant,
ABC,
Swans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rod Modell,
Bauhaus,
Freddie Wadling,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arab on Radar,
D'Angelo,
Camberwell Now,
Lalann,
Easy Going,
Lindisfarne,
Moebius,
Harry Pussy,
The Smiths,
The Mummies,
The Remains,
Wings,
Fugazi,
The Walker Brothers,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.