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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Stockholm.
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 Halifax and Winnipeg.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Danielle Patucci to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
the Bar-Kays,
Marmalade,
Icehouse,
Interpol,
The Associates,
Goldenarms,
Panda Bear,
The Vogues,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Young Marble Giants,
Depeche Mode,
Eric Dolphy,
The Real Kids,
Radiopuhelimet,
Colin Newman,
The Monks,
Oblivians,
Davy DMX,
Second Layer,
the Sonics,
The Moody Blues,
The Kinks,
Animal Collective,
Albert Ayler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Slackers,
B.T. Express,
Max Romeo,
Harmonia,
Bill Wells,
Moby Grape,
The Index,
Chris & Cosey,
The Beau Brummels,
Jacob Miller,
Harry Pussy,
Soulsonic Force,
PIL,
Pylon,
Khruangbin,
Jerry's Kids,
The Residents,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Groovy Waters,
T.S.O.L.,
Sister Nancy,
Erykah Badu,
Don Cherry,
The Busters,
Thompson Twins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The United States of America,
a-ha,
Siglo XX,
Black Bananas,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Music Machine,
Moebius,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.