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 Rwanda and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 The United States of America to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Guru Guru,
The Sound,
Davy DMX,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pierre Henry,
Alice Coltrane,
Bizarre Inc.,
Erasure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Peter and Kerry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
10cc,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pantytec,
The Remains,
Minutemen,
John Lydon,
Dave Gahan,
Jerry's Kids,
Bluetip,
Amon Düül,
The Techniques,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Steve Hackett,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Pop Group,
The Last Poets,
Anthony Braxton,
Flamin' Groovies,
T. Rex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alphaville,
Marc Almond,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Quantec,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Babytalk,
New Order,
The Misunderstood,
Todd Terry,
Blake Baxter,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mars,
Gong,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cameo,
Mad Mike,
Audionom,
Sex Pistols,
Gastr Del Sol,
MDC,
Judy Mowatt,
Royal Trux,
PIL,
Letta Mbulu,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.