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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sonic Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Mo-Dettes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Organ,
Marc Almond,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kenny Larkin,
Mars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slave,
Lightning Bolt,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Görl,
Los Fastidios,
Loose Ends,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Essential Logic,
The Happenings,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kurtis Blow,
A Certain Ratio,
Robert Hood,
Faraquet,
Thee Headcoats,
The Doors,
The Young Rascals,
Underground Resistance,
Traffic Nightmare,
Johnny Osbourne,
The United States of America,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
F. McDonald,
The Saints,
Rod Modell,
Janne Schatter,
Unwound,
Sällskapet,
New York Dolls,
Zero Boys,
Alton Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dual Sessions,
Peter and Kerry,
The Invisible,
Mantronix,
Make Up,
Desert Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Lungfish,
Jerry's Kids,
Patti Smith,
The Skatalites,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.