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 Portugal and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Tres Demented to the punk 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Sixth Finger,
Reagan Youth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Freddie Wadling,
Outsiders,
Sam Rivers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tomorrow,
Skaos,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Count Five,
Deakin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Standells,
Dennis Brown,
Zapp,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Birthday Party,
the Human League,
Ituana,
Model 500,
David McCallum,
The Golliwogs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Babytalk,
K-Klass,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deadbeat,
Cymande,
Gil Scott Heron,
Make Up,
Avey Tare,
Al Stewart,
Moby Grape,
Heaven 17,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Clarke,
The Techniques,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oblivians,
Juan Atkins,
X-101,
Junior Murvin,
Pole,
Joe Finger,
ABBA,
Tres Demented,
LL Cool J,
Joyce Sims,
Bob Dylan,
Q and Not U,
Accadde A,
Ponytail,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Archie Shepp,
Tim Buckley,
Cluster,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.