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 Ivory Coast and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Tomorrow 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Electric Prunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Half Japanese,
Michelle Simonal,
Altered Images,
Bob Dylan,
Soft Cell,
Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soul II Soul,
Sex Pistols,
Joensuu 1685,
The Grass Roots,
Trumans Water,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Slick Rick,
Porter Ricks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Unrelated Segments,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Görl,
Warren Ellis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Barracudas,
Popol Vuh,
Swell Maps,
U.S. Maple,
Arcadia,
Yellowson,
Mandrill,
Nik Kershaw,
Suicide,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sixth Finger,
Faust,
Eric Copeland,
Agitation Free,
Liliput,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Johnny Clarke,
Erasure,
Youth Brigade,
Delta 5,
Stereo Dub,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
KRS-One,
Audionom,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Foxx,
The Searchers,
In Retrospect,
Juan Atkins,
Don Cherry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Leaves,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.