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 Kenya and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Trumans Water to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Model 500,
Livin' Joy,
The Dead C,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Evens,
Sight & Sound,
ABC,
Smog,
Stetsasonic,
The Wake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Adolescents,
Toni Rubio,
Max Romeo,
Spandau Ballet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Funky Four + One,
Section 25,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter & Gordon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Unrelated Segments,
Bauhaus,
Crash Course in Science,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Flipper,
the Human League,
Q65,
Todd Terry,
Nick Fraelich,
The Pop Group,
Faraquet,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
In Retrospect,
Panda Bear,
The Fuzztones,
B.T. Express,
Newcleus,
Babytalk,
The Raincoats,
Ten City,
Bizarre Inc.,
Simply Red,
Man Eating Sloth,
kango's stein massive,
Kool Moe Dee,
Archie Shepp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Subhumans,
The Invisible,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Toasters,
Byron Stingily,
Reuben Wilson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jerry's Kids,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.