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 Bhutan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
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 oboe 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 The Fire Engines to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Victims,
Bauhaus,
Sparks,
Black Flag,
One Last Wish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
JFA,
La Düsseldorf,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skaos,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eve St. Jones,
Newcleus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Grass Roots,
The Golliwogs,
Spandau Ballet,
Ten City,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nation of Ulysses,
Johnny Clarke,
Quantec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brand Nubian,
the Human League,
Whodini,
Sister Nancy,
Bill Wells,
Dead Boys,
Harry Pussy,
The Cowsills,
The Mojo Men,
Supertramp,
the Normal,
The J.B.'s,
Ronan,
The Litter,
Leonard Cohen,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Procol Harum,
Gang Starr,
Tropical Tobacco,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Little Man,
Urselle,
John Foxx,
Andrew Hill,
Mad Mike,
The Durutti Column,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Janne Schatter,
Public Enemy,
KRS-One,
Terry Callier,
The Black Dice,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.