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 Luxembourg and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 E-Dancer to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Accadde A,
Hoover,
Mark Hollis,
The Fuzztones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Leaves,
Organ,
The Fortunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Byron Stingily,
Tres Demented,
Massinfluence,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Au Pairs,
Schoolly D,
Can,
Isaac Hayes,
Nirvana,
Nation of Ulysses,
Altered Images,
Carl Craig,
Spoonie Gee,
Stereo Dub,
B.T. Express,
Neu!,
Brick,
Ossler,
Scion,
Idris Muhammad,
Brass Construction,
Arcadia,
Gang of Four,
Funkadelic,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dead C,
LL Cool J,
Outsiders,
Derrick May,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chrome,
The Fugs,
Marmalade,
Aswad,
Archie Shepp,
Symarip,
DJ Sneak,
The Durutti Column,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Germs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Don Cherry,
Davy DMX,
The Pretty Things,
Bob Dylan,
T. Rex,
Panda Bear,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.