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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Lou Reed 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 Agitation Free to the crunk 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Cymande,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Charles Mingus,
Lower 48,
FM Einheit,
Black Moon,
Sex Pistols,
Rod Modell,
Young Marble Giants,
The Electric Prunes,
The Saints,
the Association,
Con Funk Shun,
cv313,
UT,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nirvana,
Warren Ellis,
K-Klass,
New York Dolls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soul II Soul,
Deadbeat,
Angry Samoans,
The Beau Brummels,
Danielle Patucci,
The Divine Comedy,
Colin Newman,
The Doors,
PIL,
Technova,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arcadia,
The Names,
Tres Demented,
The Trojans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Panda Bear,
Joyce Sims,
Scientists,
Silicon Teens,
Cecil Taylor,
Bob Dylan,
Lyres,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hashim,
Underground Resistance,
Amazonics,
Moby Grape,
Audionom,
The Slits,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aural Exciters,
Aswad,
the Soft Cell,
The Fire Engines,
Ken Boothe,
The Moleskins,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.