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 Sierra Leone and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar 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 grime 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Detroit Cobras,
Urselle,
Dawn Penn,
Angry Samoans,
Underground Resistance,
A Certain Ratio,
Faraquet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mark Hollis,
Nirvana,
The Selecter,
Warsaw,
Pierre Henry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bill Near,
Cecil Taylor,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Symarip,
Cameo,
Vainqueur,
The Blues Magoos,
The Smiths,
Porter Ricks,
Moss Icon,
John Cale,
Easy Going,
One Last Wish,
Hardrive,
Sun City Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Panda Bear,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Reed,
Judy Mowatt,
Heaven 17,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Bananas,
Newcleus,
Peter and Kerry,
the Swans,
Skriet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Television Personalities,
Pulsallama,
EPMD,
The Tremeloes,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Star Department,
Zero Boys,
The Barracudas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Throbbing Gristle,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.