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 Lebanon and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ 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 Eve St. Jones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nation of Ulysses,
ABBA,
Qualms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scan 7,
Judy Mowatt,
The Litter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gang Green,
Crispian St. Peters,
Charles Mingus,
Rufus Thomas,
Unwound,
Arthur Verocai,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Grass Roots,
Royal Trux,
Maurizio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Angry Samoans,
The Vogues,
Juan Atkins,
Aswad,
Television Personalities,
Kerri Chandler,
Kenny Larkin,
Hot Snakes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxy Music,
Isaac Hayes,
Blake Baxter,
These Immortal Souls,
David Bowie,
Neil Young,
Neu!,
UT,
Soft Cell,
Mark Hollis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moby Grape,
Fugazi,
Stetsasonic,
the Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
Cecil Taylor,
Rapeman,
Robert Görl,
World's Most,
Y Pants,
Bobby Womack,
K-Klass,
Cameo,
Camouflage,
The Zeros,
Guru Guru,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.