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 Guinea and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Holger Czukay 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 Walker Brothers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
The Selecter,
Scrapy,
Malaria!,
The Mummies,
Black Bananas,
The Associates,
Blossom Toes,
The Invisible,
Pantaleimon,
Rites of Spring,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Byrd,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quando Quango,
Duran Duran,
Matthew Halsall,
Nick Fraelich,
The Kinks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Index,
Rapeman,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Litter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Quantec,
Tropical Tobacco,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Moleskins,
Chrome,
Clear Light,
Janne Schatter,
The Velvet Underground,
Avey Tare,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soft Cell,
The Zeros,
Susan Cadogan,
Pole,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ice-T,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lalann,
Mo-Dettes,
Crooked Eye,
Barry Ungar,
The Red Krayola,
Rotary Connection,
Hoover,
Sugar Minott,
Little Man,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sixth Finger,
The Monochrome Set,
Pagans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Maurizio,
Siglo XX,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.