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 United Kingdom and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the electroclash 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Magma,
Lightning Bolt,
the Swans,
Blake Baxter,
The American Breed,
Severed Heads,
The Motions,
Man Parrish,
Infiniti,
Mantronix,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Echospace,
Roy Ayers,
Nik Kershaw,
Iggy Pop,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mark Hollis,
The Star Department,
The Detroit Cobras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brass Construction,
Skarface,
John Foxx,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Yaz,
DJ Style,
Boogie Down Productions,
Franke,
The Residents,
the Sonics,
Yazoo,
Panda Bear,
Gong,
Radio Birdman,
Shuggie Otis,
Dave Gahan,
Wasted Youth,
Newcleus,
Ultravox,
The Standells,
Brick,
Ralphi Rosario,
Neu!,
Fluxion,
Jerry's Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flash Fearless,
The Cowsills,
David McCallum,
The Kinks,
Trumans Water,
Davy DMX,
New Order,
The Fugs,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
Lakeside,
Silicon Teens,
The Black Dice,
Television Personalities,
Masters at Work,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.