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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 Television to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
June of 44,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sight & Sound,
The Human League,
Bobby Womack,
John Lydon,
Scott Walker,
Boz Scaggs,
Crime,
Eddi Front,
The Victims,
Carl Craig,
Joyce Sims,
Glenn Branca,
Jeff Mills,
The Cowsills,
Main Source,
Davy DMX,
Grauzone,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Maurizio,
The Smoke,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Almond,
Basic Channel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lakeside,
Pylon,
The Angels of Light,
Can,
Unrelated Segments,
China Crisis,
The Seeds,
Wire,
Tommy Roe,
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Cell,
Nas,
Matthew Halsall,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arcadia,
Kevin Saunderson,
Morten Harket,
The Evens,
Buzzcocks,
Visage,
Blancmange,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cure,
The American Breed,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Mummies,
The Residents,
The Slits,
Ornette Coleman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Five Americans,
Pussy Galore,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.