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 Georgia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Tropical Tobacco to the dance 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
Chrome,
Scion,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Electric Prunes,
Glenn Branca,
Wasted Youth,
Todd Terry,
Das Ding,
B.T. Express,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Dave Clark Five,
F. McDonald,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pussy Galore,
the Normal,
Vainqueur,
Arcadia,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Bananas,
Anakelly,
Lindisfarne,
Minutemen,
June Days,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Flag,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jeru the Damaja,
Franke,
Fatback Band,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pylon,
Godley & Creme,
Blancmange,
Jawbox,
New Age Steppers,
Sound Behaviour,
T.S.O.L.,
Delta 5,
Ossler,
Black Moon,
Eurythmics,
Pere Ubu,
Wings,
Minny Pops,
H. Thieme,
Roxette,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fad Gadget,
James White and The Blacks,
Judy Mowatt,
Siglo XX,
Masters at Work,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.