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 Samoa and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rap 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Toni Rubio,
the Soft Cell,
Icehouse,
The Victims,
Black Pus,
Loose Ends,
Mad Mike,
Bluetip,
Vladislav Delay,
Nik Kershaw,
E-Dancer,
Schoolly D,
Hot Snakes,
KRS-One,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ronnie Foster,
The Durutti Column,
Dead Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
The Dead C,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bootsy Collins,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers,
Oblivians,
Anakelly,
Moebius,
T.S.O.L.,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Lydon,
The Leaves,
Pierre Henry,
Excepter,
Warsaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Das Ding,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ponytail,
Pole,
Parry Music,
DJ Style,
Archie Shepp,
Gong,
Sight & Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fuzztones,
Lungfish,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Christie,
Tears for Fears,
Q65,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Lynne,
UT,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Seeds,
Sonic Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Peter and Kerry,
Television Personalities,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.