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 Equatorial Guinea and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alison Limerick 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Reagan Youth,
Soft Cell,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Skatalites,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stockholm Monsters,
Moebius,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Masters at Work,
Deadbeat,
Theoretical Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Amon Düül II,
D'Angelo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scion,
Johnny Osbourne,
Byron Stingily,
Danielle Patucci,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minnie Riperton,
Excepter,
New Age Steppers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Godley & Creme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fela Kuti,
Eve St. Jones,
The Names,
Spandau Ballet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gap Band,
Siglo XX,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Neon Judgement,
The Divine Comedy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sällskapet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eddi Front,
U.S. Maple,
Jacques Brel,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moleskins,
Don Cherry,
Lungfish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Simply Red,
Wasted Youth,
The Evens,
Schoolly D,
A Certain Ratio,
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.