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 Qatar and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 H. Thieme to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a mellotron 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 marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
F. McDonald,
The Sonics,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Style,
Fad Gadget,
The Moleskins,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Enemy,
Gabor Szabo,
The J.B.'s,
AZ,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Juan Atkins,
Thompson Twins,
Mr. Review,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Bourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pussy Galore,
The Index,
Letta Mbulu,
Scientists,
Urselle,
Marmalade,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Swell Maps,
Young Marble Giants,
One Last Wish,
Clear Light,
Mission of Burma,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Human League,
A Certain Ratio,
Ronnie Foster,
U.S. Maple,
Jeff Lynne,
Joey Negro,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Carl Craig,
Livin' Joy,
Angry Samoans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fall,
Roger Hodgson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bronski Beat,
Desert Stars,
Lalann,
Joy Division,
Japan,
Theoretical Girls,
Sällskapet,
X-102,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.