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 Poland and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Hoover to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Lucky Dragons,
Pere Ubu,
Davy DMX,
Dave Gahan,
The Monks,
Darondo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
X-Ray Spex,
The Count Five,
Lightning Bolt,
Brass Construction,
The Red Krayola,
Thee Headcoats,
AZ,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The American Breed,
Black Pus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New York Dolls,
Stetsasonic,
Gang of Four,
Jerry's Kids,
Tomorrow,
Stiv Bators,
June Days,
Cybotron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Walker Brothers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delon & Dalcan,
Andrew Hill,
Mars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Skarface,
Jawbox,
Pantaleimon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shoche,
Surgeon,
John Cale,
Harmonia,
Boz Scaggs,
Simply Red,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lebanon Hanover,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eli Mardock,
Sun Ra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gories,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Kinks,
Panda Bear,
New Age Steppers,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.