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 Grenada 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord 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 The Golliwogs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Index,
Minnie Riperton,
Graham Central Station,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare,
Matthew Bourne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Womack,
The Count Five,
Brothers Johnson,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fortunes,
Electric Prunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yaz,
The Velvet Underground,
Main Source,
PIL,
The Pretty Things,
Interpol,
the Fania All-Stars,
Radiohead,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Surgeon,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Zeros,
Underground Resistance,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fuzztones,
Stereo Dub,
Michelle Simonal,
The Evens,
Darondo,
Ten City,
Soul II Soul,
Babytalk,
Suicide,
Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jacob Miller,
Fat Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Panda Bear,
Jerry's Kids,
Yusef Lateef,
Wolf Eyes,
Josef K,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Theoretical Girls,
Mr. Review,
Mantronix,
Mark Hollis,
KRS-One,
Rufus Thomas,
Eddi Front,
June of 44,
Sällskapet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.