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 Poland and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the punk 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Moby Grape,
Excepter,
Ohio Players,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Normal,
Icehouse,
Marmalade,
Howard Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
New Order,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Byrd,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Darondo,
Electric Prunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Supertramp,
Vladislav Delay,
Depeche Mode,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Reagan Youth,
Parry Music,
Can,
The Leaves,
The Slackers,
Scientists,
The Sound,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lightning Bolt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Guru Guru,
Pole,
Rites of Spring,
Gang of Four,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kenny Larkin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Knickerbockers,
T.S.O.L.,
Echospace,
Wire,
Nico,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television,
Minutemen,
Grey Daturas,
ABC,
Robert Wyatt,
Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Fela Kuti,
Marvin Gaye,
Deepchord,
Susan Cadogan,
Newcleus,
Ronan,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.