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 Seychelles and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the rap 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Second Layer,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kayak,
Crime,
Young Marble Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marvin Gaye,
In Retrospect,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eve St. Jones,
Easy Going,
Judy Mowatt,
Archie Shepp,
Yazoo,
The Residents,
kango's stein massive,
Suicide,
Stereo Dub,
OOIOO,
Suburban Knight,
Echospace,
Soft Cell,
Ponytail,
Angry Samoans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ralphi Rosario,
Janne Schatter,
Dead Boys,
Visage,
Half Japanese,
Trumans Water,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Halsall,
The Monochrome Set,
Deepchord,
Little Man,
Porter Ricks,
The Searchers,
Todd Rundgren,
Y Pants,
Marc Almond,
Erasure,
Duran Duran,
ABC,
Interpol,
Infiniti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Piero Umiliani,
Stetsasonic,
Charles Mingus,
Main Source,
Monks,
Grauzone,
Warsaw,
The Five Americans,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.