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 Benin and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the crunk 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
The Blues Magoos,
FM Einheit,
Aaron Thompson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bill Wells,
DJ Sneak,
Donald Byrd,
Country Teasers,
Andrew Hill,
Dave Gahan,
Metal Thangz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Laurel Aitken,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ossler,
Basic Channel,
Anthony Braxton,
Neu!,
Scientists,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soulsonic Force,
F. McDonald,
Neil Young,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cal Tjader,
Crispian St. Peters,
Funky Four + One,
Guru Guru,
Juan Atkins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Loose Ends,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Sherman,
John Lydon,
Echospace,
Boredoms,
Hot Snakes,
The Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Remains,
Cecil Taylor,
David Bowie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wire,
Jandek,
The Doors,
Grey Daturas,
One Last Wish,
Gang Starr,
Spandau Ballet,
The Divine Comedy,
Arthur Verocai,
The Stooges,
The Gories,
Hashim,
The Gap Band,
The Golliwogs,
Godley & Creme,
Arcadia,
Sex Pistols,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.