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 Syria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Vogues to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer 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 mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
The Kinks,
Television,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Finger,
Franke,
Godley & Creme,
The Blackbyrds,
Accadde A,
The Selecter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bill Wells,
Erykah Badu,
Slave,
Lou Christie,
Panda Bear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bang On A Can,
Wings,
Joy Division,
Technova,
Hashim,
Eric Copeland,
Sarah Menescal,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dirtbombs,
Japan,
The Names,
Sight & Sound,
Sun Ra,
DJ Style,
Cheater Slicks,
Model 500,
Skaos,
Fluxion,
The Remains,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Carl Craig,
Marcia Griffiths,
Visage,
Jandek,
The Gun Club,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Doobie Brothers,
Von Mondo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang of Four,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deepchord,
The Skatalites,
Robert Görl,
Simply Red,
The Alarm Clocks,
Chrome,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.