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 Thailand and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Michael McDonald 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 Reed & John Cale to the funk 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Monochrome Set,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kenny Larkin,
Organ,
Pantytec,
Soft Cell,
Deepchord,
Pierre Henry,
The Associates,
The Detroit Cobras,
Television Personalities,
The Seeds,
Television,
Flipper,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
K-Klass,
Stiv Bators,
Barry Ungar,
Suicide,
Marshall Jefferson,
Arthur Verocai,
In Retrospect,
Suburban Knight,
Monks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eurythmics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Danielle Patucci,
T. Rex,
Pantaleimon,
Yusef Lateef,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sonny Sharrock,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Womack,
CMW,
Jacques Brel,
Reagan Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deakin,
Robert Görl,
June Days,
The Index,
Carl Craig,
Accadde A,
The Real Kids,
Joy Division,
Pharoah Sanders,
The United States of America,
Aswad,
The Cowsills,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.