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 India and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Black Dice to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Panda Bear,
Tears for Fears,
Flamin' Groovies,
Blake Baxter,
Ken Boothe,
Black Flag,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Almond,
Gabor Szabo,
The Standells,
F. McDonald,
Thompson Twins,
Roxette,
Lalann,
Davy DMX,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sonic Youth,
The Martian,
One Last Wish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Parry Music,
Kurtis Blow,
Janne Schatter,
Crime,
Dark Day,
Max Romeo,
Fad Gadget,
Ten City,
Rod Modell,
Guru Guru,
Reuben Wilson,
Kayak,
Jimmy McGriff,
Theoretical Girls,
John Coltrane,
Barrington Levy,
The Mojo Men,
Colin Newman,
Index,
The Trojans,
Arcadia,
The Durutti Column,
Technova,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gories,
Pagans,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Real Kids,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fela Kuti,
Blancmange,
Oblivians,
T.S.O.L.,
Loose Ends,
The Searchers,
Marvin Gaye,
Symarip,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.