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 Paraguay and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
The Wake,
Young Marble Giants,
Camouflage,
Jeff Mills,
Wire,
8 Eyed Spy,
Thee Headcoats,
Tomorrow,
Tubeway Army,
Inner City,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare,
The Star Department,
Henry Cow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Beau Brummels,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Starr,
Mars,
B.T. Express,
La Düsseldorf,
Gregory Isaacs,
Talk Talk,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Slits,
Yaz,
Television,
Scientists,
The Mojo Men,
Zapp,
Maurizio,
Groovy Waters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Reuben Wilson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gories,
Sister Nancy,
The Cure,
Scion,
The Fire Engines,
the Slits,
Eddi Front,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Leaves,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Au Pairs,
Neu!,
Second Layer,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cecil Taylor,
Motorama,
The Count Five,
Fluxion,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
June Days,
Harry Pussy,
Dark Day,
Stiv Bators,
Scan 7,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.