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 Equatorial Guinea and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tom Boy to the punk 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
The Fall,
The American Breed,
Shuggie Otis,
The Standells,
Babytalk,
Tears for Fears,
The Golliwogs,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cure,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dead Boys,
Frankie Knuckles,
Los Fastidios,
Flamin' Groovies,
Panda Bear,
Niagra,
Amazonics,
Lucky Dragons,
The Litter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Five Americans,
Davy DMX,
Smog,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Görl,
Khruangbin,
Peter & Gordon,
Neil Young,
Minor Threat,
Drive Like Jehu,
Angry Samoans,
Fat Boys,
Tom Boy,
Thompson Twins,
Sandy B,
Idris Muhammad,
La Düsseldorf,
Glambeats Corp.,
June Days,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Foxx,
The Monochrome Set,
Trumans Water,
Brothers Johnson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Country Teasers,
The Real Kids,
The Martian,
Chrome,
Jerry's Kids,
The Associates,
Siglo XX,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Sherman,
Rapeman,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.