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 Kiribati and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Royal Trux to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dave Clark Five,
Moebius,
the Germs,
a-ha,
The Cowsills,
ABBA,
Howard Jones,
China Crisis,
The Cramps,
Bang On A Can,
The Skatalites,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris & Cosey,
Malaria!,
Niagra,
Rufus Thomas,
Altered Images,
Nils Olav,
Terry Callier,
Junior Murvin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
Q65,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Los Fastidios,
Visage,
The Real Kids,
Swell Maps,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lungfish,
Newcleus,
E-Dancer,
Archie Shepp,
Ten City,
Shuggie Otis,
The Pretty Things,
Gastr Del Sol,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oneida,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Moody Blues,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Chrome,
Lou Reed,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bauhaus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Japan,
Godley & Creme,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Certain Ratio,
Technova,
The Blues Magoos,
Skarface,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sight & Sound,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.