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 Germany and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
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 Donald Fagen 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 Pantytec to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
The Slits,
Roxy Music,
Tres Demented,
Suicide,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Young Marble Giants,
Hashim,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Country Teasers,
Robert Görl,
Infiniti,
Theoretical Girls,
Public Enemy,
Nico,
Bobbi Humphrey,
a-ha,
Drexciya,
The Fall,
Donny Hathaway,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The J.B.'s,
Kaleidoscope,
Nation of Ulysses,
Whodini,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pulsallama,
The Real Kids,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sun City Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
Rod Modell,
The American Breed,
David McCallum,
Pantaleimon,
Deadbeat,
Tears for Fears,
Sister Nancy,
Derrick Morgan,
Soulsonic Force,
Josef K,
Alice Coltrane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Andrew Hill,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Rekid,
Rosa Yemen,
Index,
Faraquet,
Audionom,
Ludus,
The Red Krayola,
F. McDonald,
Duran Duran,
Tim Buckley,
Qualms,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neu!,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.