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 Suriname and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 David Bowie 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 Thee Headcoats to the punk 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
the Normal,
Aaron Thompson,
Sällskapet,
The Toasters,
The Zeros,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Swans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deadbeat,
Sixth Finger,
LL Cool J,
Maleditus Sound,
Visage,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T.S.O.L.,
Liliput,
Vainqueur,
The Sonics,
A Certain Ratio,
Cheater Slicks,
Technova,
Babytalk,
June of 44,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lou Christie,
Supertramp,
Popol Vuh,
The Mummies,
Brass Construction,
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Iggy Pop,
Glenn Branca,
The Invisible,
Kool Moe Dee,
Television Personalities,
Model 500,
David Bowie,
The Last Poets,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
R.M.O.,
Robert Hood,
Al Stewart,
Pussy Galore,
Massinfluence,
Nico,
Don Cherry,
Faraquet,
Dawn Penn,
Scott Walker,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Sherman,
Cameo,
Idris Muhammad,
Y Pants,
The Slits,
The Busters,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.