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 Sudan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 the Sonics to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
The Electric Prunes,
The Moody Blues,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Misunderstood,
Lungfish,
Camberwell Now,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eve St. Jones,
Josef K,
Kaleidoscope,
Gichy Dan,
Bootsy Collins,
Roger Hodgson,
The Knickerbockers,
Althea and Donna,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dead C,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Theoretical Girls,
Archie Shepp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Blues Magoos,
Agitation Free,
The Mojo Men,
Pole,
Urselle,
Rakim,
The Searchers,
Minny Pops,
Loose Ends,
The Grass Roots,
Howard Jones,
Nils Olav,
Masters at Work,
Arab on Radar,
Alison Limerick,
Young Marble Giants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ten City,
Rites of Spring,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dave Gahan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Television Personalities,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Popol Vuh,
Unrelated Segments,
Inner City,
Ultra Naté,
The Zeros,
Freddie Wadling,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
LL Cool J,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.