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 Latvia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
The Red Krayola,
8 Eyed Spy,
Agent Orange,
Index,
The Divine Comedy,
Guru Guru,
Cluster,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roxy Music,
FM Einheit,
Barry Ungar,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Malaria!,
Sex Pistols,
The Doors,
The Sound,
Sister Nancy,
June of 44,
John Foxx,
Depeche Mode,
Angry Samoans,
Roxette,
James White and The Blacks,
Juan Atkins,
Hardrive,
Nas,
The Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gladiators,
These Immortal Souls,
Mandrill,
Mr. Review,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cybotron,
Hot Snakes,
Tears for Fears,
Procol Harum,
Brass Construction,
Rod Modell,
In Retrospect,
Marine Girls,
Henry Cow,
The Selecter,
Country Teasers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Audionom,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fear,
The Durutti Column,
Basic Channel,
Rites of Spring,
Ken Boothe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Silicon Teens,
The Move,
Slave,
Pantytec,
La Düsseldorf,
Ice-T,
Eden Ahbez,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.