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 Vanuatu and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rhythm & Sound to the grunge 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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gun Club,
Skriet,
K-Klass,
Dave Gahan,
the Soft Cell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lungfish,
Unwound,
Clear Light,
Dennis Brown,
Rapeman,
Joe Smooth,
48th St. Collective,
Adolescents,
Scan 7,
The Doors,
The Gap Band,
Yazoo,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Young Rascals,
The Star Department,
Ultimate Spinach,
a-ha,
David McCallum,
Siglo XX,
Absolute Body Control,
Skarface,
Slick Rick,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bauhaus,
Average White Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Flash Fearless,
Unrelated Segments,
Das Ding,
Nick Fraelich,
Steve Hackett,
Marvin Gaye,
Rites of Spring,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mission of Burma,
Talk Talk,
The Moody Blues,
Tim Buckley,
Freddie Wadling,
Ronan,
Scrapy,
Thee Headcoats,
The Monochrome Set,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harry Pussy,
Sun City Girls,
The Index,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moebius,
Bronski Beat,
Bluetip,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.