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 Moldova and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator 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 Blossom Toes 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dual Sessions,
Marcia Griffiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
T. Rex,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Pus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Moss Icon,
Sight & Sound,
Janne Schatter,
Sarah Menescal,
Bauhaus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chrome,
The Barracudas,
Funkadelic,
Sun City Girls,
Ultravox,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Michelle Simonal,
Unrelated Segments,
T.S.O.L.,
Deepchord,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Saccharine Trust,
E-Dancer,
Lou Christie,
Agent Orange,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Peter & Gordon,
Eurythmics,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cluster,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythm & Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Evens,
Stetsasonic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rites of Spring,
Tommy Roe,
Radiohead,
The Star Department,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Boredoms,
Ultra Naté,
Minny Pops,
Joe Smooth,
Arcadia,
Vladislav Delay,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Doors,
Derrick Morgan,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.