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 Venezuela and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Terrestrial Tones to the dance 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
OOIOO,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Halsall,
Metal Thangz,
Johnny Osbourne,
Chris Corsano,
Gastr Del Sol,
Porter Ricks,
Grauzone,
Isaac Hayes,
Thee Headcoats,
Qualms,
Bizarre Inc.,
Half Japanese,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camberwell Now,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
kango's stein massive,
Lou Reed,
Swell Maps,
AZ,
Sam Rivers,
Stiv Bators,
The Kinks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Man Parrish,
Deepchord,
a-ha,
The Barracudas,
The Fugs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Searchers,
Moebius,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Hardrive,
Infiniti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeff Lynne,
The Raincoats,
Marc Almond,
Q and Not U,
Delta 5,
The Real Kids,
Henry Cow,
The Star Department,
Sonic Youth,
Aaron Thompson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Outsiders,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Soft Cell,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.