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 Tunisia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes 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 Bar-Kays to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Jandek,
Desert Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sonic Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dead C,
The Modern Lovers,
Swans,
Bush Tetras,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Camouflage,
The Zeros,
Colin Newman,
Roger Hodgson,
Al Stewart,
The Happenings,
The Raincoats,
Laurel Aitken,
Circle Jerks,
U.S. Maple,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Alice Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Reed,
The Last Poets,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gong,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bootsy Collins,
Avey Tare,
John Cale,
Danielle Patucci,
Panda Bear,
Pulsallama,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lakeside,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lower 48,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang of Four,
Mandrill,
The Golliwogs,
Little Man,
Theoretical Girls,
The Star Department,
Aloha Tigers,
Thompson Twins,
Scan 7,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra,
Yazoo,
F. McDonald,
Marvin Gaye,
Shuggie Otis,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Prince Buster,
The Offenders,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.