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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Liliput to the electroclash 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
FM Einheit,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harry Pussy,
R.M.O.,
The Slits,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sister Nancy,
Black Flag,
Flamin' Groovies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Pulsallama,
The Velvet Underground,
Shoche,
Q and Not U,
Quando Quango,
The Black Dice,
In Retrospect,
Mission of Burma,
The Real Kids,
The Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
New Order,
Mad Mike,
The Seeds,
DNA,
Joyce Sims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television Personalities,
Deakin,
Erykah Badu,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Invisible,
Main Source,
the Fania All-Stars,
Steve Hackett,
The Dirtbombs,
Vainqueur,
Joe Smooth,
John Lydon,
Technova,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tomorrow,
Harpers Bizarre,
UT,
Fort Wilson Riot,
X-101,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
H. Thieme,
Intrusion,
John Holt,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Susan Cadogan,
Fatback Band,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.