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 Macedonia and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Television Personalities to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Gong,
The Durutti Column,
Swell Maps,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mr. Review,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Slave,
Isaac Hayes,
Slick Rick,
The Buckinghams,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minny Pops,
Surgeon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Archie Shepp,
Echospace,
Drive Like Jehu,
Talk Talk,
Barry Ungar,
Ken Boothe,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Vladislav Delay,
Amazonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stockholm Monsters,
Goldenarms,
Lalann,
Johnny Clarke,
The Last Poets,
Mark Hollis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
The Skatalites,
Public Enemy,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Style,
Silicon Teens,
David McCallum,
Rotary Connection,
The Gun Club,
The Electric Prunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tubeway Army,
Terry Callier,
Cheater Slicks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Reagan Youth,
Inner City,
Alphaville,
Flamin' Groovies,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pole,
The Cure,
Dennis Brown,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joy Division,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.