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 Ivory Coast and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Rosa Yemen,
The Kinks,
Pulsallama,
Harmonia,
Kenny Larkin,
The Saints,
Pylon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Wake,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minor Threat,
The Divine Comedy,
Adolescents,
Skaos,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy Collins,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bronski Beat,
Tres Demented,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pierre Henry,
Sister Nancy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Can,
The Star Department,
The Grass Roots,
One Last Wish,
Bill Wells,
The Velvet Underground,
Tears for Fears,
LL Cool J,
Neil Young,
Shoche,
Cluster,
D'Angelo,
UT,
AZ,
Wings,
Malaria!,
Pussy Galore,
The Modern Lovers,
The Count Five,
Anakelly,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Red Krayola,
Chris & Cosey,
The Standells,
Nils Olav,
Sparks,
Ituana,
Jandek,
Gang Gang Dance,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dead C,
the Soft Cell,
Agent Orange,
The Remains,
Roy Ayers,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.