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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 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 Peter and Kerry to the electroclash 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick May,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
UT,
The Music Machine,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Real Kids,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fall,
Nils Olav,
Drive Like Jehu,
The New Christs,
The Black Dice,
Suburban Knight,
Marine Girls,
Outsiders,
Malaria!,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Connie Case,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Busters,
Mark Hollis,
Severed Heads,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobby Womack,
Joe Finger,
Pharoah Sanders,
Model 500,
Echospace,
The Walker Brothers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rakim,
EPMD,
Sixth Finger,
Howard Jones,
Qualms,
Neu!,
Symarip,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Standells,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Toasters,
The Move,
the Association,
Siglo XX,
Ultravox,
ABC,
Goldenarms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Todd Rundgren,
Royal Trux,
Agitation Free,
CMW,
Flamin' Groovies,
Infiniti,
Rites of Spring,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joensuu 1685,
Von Mondo,
Mars,
Au Pairs,
The Associates,
Soft Cell,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.