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 Australia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 cv313 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gun Club,
Crash Course in Science,
Dual Sessions,
New Age Steppers,
Bluetip,
Rotary Connection,
Brick,
Ronan,
Subhumans,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Organ,
Todd Rundgren,
La Düsseldorf,
Ossler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mars,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mad Mike,
Sällskapet,
Roxette,
Model 500,
Iggy Pop,
The Names,
Black Sheep,
Talk Talk,
Can,
Loose Ends,
The Gap Band,
Gang Green,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bang On A Can,
The Tremeloes,
Toni Rubio,
B.T. Express,
Public Enemy,
The American Breed,
Leonard Cohen,
The Evens,
Bauhaus,
New Order,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Monolake,
Reagan Youth,
The Doors,
Ronnie Foster,
Fugazi,
Bobby Byrd,
The Saints,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Silicon Teens,
The Slackers,
The Dirtbombs,
Matthew Bourne,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Man Parrish,
Electric Prunes,
Intrusion,
Sound Behaviour,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.