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 Estonia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Donald Fagen 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 Amazonics to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Tim Buckley,
The Red Krayola,
The Victims,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
Interpol,
Saccharine Trust,
Faraquet,
The Gladiators,
Gichy Dan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Robert Görl,
John Coltrane,
Visage,
Massinfluence,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nik Kershaw,
Eli Mardock,
The Fuzztones,
The Mummies,
DJ Sneak,
The Buckinghams,
Ronan,
Japan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cramps,
Maleditus Sound,
Talk Talk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pantytec,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cure,
Metal Thangz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Black Dice,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Hood,
Graham Central Station,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hasil Adkins,
The Saints,
Harpers Bizarre,
Absolute Body Control,
Cameo,
Sonny Sharrock,
China Crisis,
X-101,
Inner City,
Bad Manners,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deadbeat,
Warsaw,
Darondo,
Sam Rivers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Doors,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.