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 Kiribati and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lou Christie to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blancmange,
Dawn Penn,
The Music Machine,
Surgeon,
Excepter,
Skriet,
Magma,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Intrusion,
Warren Ellis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric Copeland,
Young Marble Giants,
Television Personalities,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythm & Sound,
KRS-One,
John Coltrane,
The Index,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Supertramp,
Goldenarms,
The Seeds,
Sugar Minott,
Fear,
Alton Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
Joey Negro,
Drexciya,
the Slits,
Monolake,
Rosa Yemen,
Icehouse,
Negative Approach,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
James White and The Blacks,
Faust,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Prunes,
Motorama,
Archie Shepp,
Deadbeat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
David Bowie,
Nik Kershaw,
Nas,
T. Rex,
The Move,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brothers Johnson,
Connie Case,
New Age Steppers,
Harry Pussy,
John Foxx,
Gichy Dan,
Los Fastidios,
Mo-Dettes,
Blake Baxter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.