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 Bolivia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Das Ding to the grime 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
The Wake,
Lungfish,
Sex Pistols,
Grandmaster Flash,
Susan Cadogan,
Delta 5,
The Star Department,
the Fania All-Stars,
MDC,
Al Stewart,
Ronnie Foster,
Maurizio,
Silicon Teens,
Crooked Eye,
Byron Stingily,
Tim Buckley,
The Moody Blues,
Desert Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Chris Corsano,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Red Krayola,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Loose Ends,
Marmalade,
Pole,
The Raincoats,
This Heat,
John Cale,
Todd Rundgren,
Rites of Spring,
Kerrie Biddell,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Second Layer,
Niagra,
Negative Approach,
The Sound,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
Zapp,
Ossler,
Scrapy,
Derrick May,
Au Pairs,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Green,
The Dirtbombs,
the Bar-Kays,
Minutemen,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-102,
Gabor Szabo,
Lucky Dragons,
The Mojo Men,
Tom Boy,
Buzzcocks,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.