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 Uruguay and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 American Breed to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Icehouse,
R.M.O.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Neon Judgement,
Barry Ungar,
Leonard Cohen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jawbox,
the Soft Cell,
Television,
Young Marble Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eli Mardock,
China Crisis,
Nik Kershaw,
cv313,
Funky Four + One,
Steve Hackett,
Henry Cow,
Minor Threat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry's Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mojo Men,
The Saints,
Gerry Rafferty,
Junior Murvin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Model 500,
Hot Snakes,
Kayak,
Stiv Bators,
Monolake,
DJ Style,
a-ha,
The New Christs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Doors,
The Raincoats,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nick Fraelich,
David Axelrod,
Charles Mingus,
Theoretical Girls,
The Dead C,
The Standells,
Lalann,
Surgeon,
Trumans Water,
H. Thieme,
Harmonia,
The Moleskins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.