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 Sudan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can 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?
Malaria!,
Supertramp,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Slits,
Schoolly D,
Marmalade,
Pulsallama,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Average White Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Spoonie Gee,
The Kinks,
Black Moon,
Nas,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Sherman,
Infiniti,
T. Rex,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
MDC,
ABBA,
H. Thieme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Christie,
B.T. Express,
Cameo,
Matthew Halsall,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Qualms,
Panda Bear,
Quadrant,
Minutemen,
The Young Rascals,
Darondo,
The Neon Judgement,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sound,
Marine Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Quantec,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeff Lynne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantaleimon,
Monks,
The Cowsills,
Aaron Thompson,
Icehouse,
The Residents,
The Birthday Party,
Iggy Pop,
Eli Mardock,
Nirvana,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lakeside,
Robert Görl,
Goldenarms,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.