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 Dominican Republic and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Unwound to the electroclash 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Moby Grape,
The Human League,
Ken Boothe,
Ice-T,
The Saints,
Pole,
The Walker Brothers,
Idris Muhammad,
Jeff Lynne,
The Kinks,
The Pretty Things,
Japan,
Whodini,
UT,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Massinfluence,
The Toasters,
Bobby Sherman,
Eve St. Jones,
Max Romeo,
a-ha,
Dorothy Ashby,
Reagan Youth,
Tres Demented,
Ohio Players,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Searchers,
Television,
The Martian,
Henry Cow,
Sight & Sound,
The Fortunes,
MDC,
Dual Sessions,
DJ Sneak,
Fela Kuti,
Neil Young,
D'Angelo,
Bauhaus,
The Wake,
Minnie Riperton,
Graham Central Station,
Mission of Burma,
X-101,
Arab on Radar,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Goldenarms,
The Smiths,
Simply Red,
Eric Copeland,
Boredoms,
Underground Resistance,
Sparks,
Accadde A,
Bob Dylan,
Gang of Four,
The Selecter,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.