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 Lesotho and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 48th St. Collective to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Gang Gang Dance,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moss Icon,
The Golliwogs,
Sparks,
Circle Jerks,
Skarface,
Black Bananas,
Kas Product,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oneida,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sonics,
John Holt,
Roger Hodgson,
Organ,
Technova,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wire,
Von Mondo,
Gang of Four,
Susan Cadogan,
Minutemen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rapeman,
Qualms,
Robert Görl,
Suburban Knight,
Kerri Chandler,
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lindisfarne,
The Gun Club,
Metal Thangz,
Mantronix,
Dave Gahan,
Roxette,
The Gories,
Sällskapet,
Scott Walker,
Bill Near,
Porter Ricks,
Scion,
Ronan,
The Monks,
Intrusion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dawn Penn,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Count Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Simply Red,
ABC,
Lucky Dragons,
Niagra,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.