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 Iceland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grunge 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
DJ Style,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Agent Orange,
The Electric Prunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Trumans Water,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun City Girls,
Marmalade,
MDC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Popol Vuh,
Q65,
Wolf Eyes,
Nirvana,
Terry Callier,
Minnie Riperton,
Mo-Dettes,
JFA,
Stereo Dub,
Liliput,
Mantronix,
The Buckinghams,
Skaos,
Rekid,
Soft Cell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sixth Finger,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cramps,
Funky Four + One,
Ken Boothe,
Faust,
Colin Newman,
Pylon,
Pole,
Tears for Fears,
A Certain Ratio,
Dark Day,
A Flock of Seagulls,
World's Most,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Interpol,
Siglo XX,
Joyce Sims,
Joensuu 1685,
Sandy B,
Tomorrow,
Josef K,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sparks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Donald Byrd,
Pantaleimon,
Yellowson,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Invisible,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Martian,
The Monochrome Set,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.