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 Greece and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stiv Bators,
Reagan Youth,
Minny Pops,
Qualms,
Hot Snakes,
Jeff Lynne,
Yaz,
The Cramps,
Joe Smooth,
The Young Rascals,
the Association,
Henry Cow,
Rufus Thomas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grauzone,
Pierre Henry,
Little Man,
Eddi Front,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ossler,
The Gun Club,
Laurel Aitken,
X-Ray Spex,
Lightning Bolt,
New Age Steppers,
Sällskapet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camberwell Now,
Funky Four + One,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neil Young,
Quadrant,
Fear,
Crooked Eye,
The Remains,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sparks,
Bill Near,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mr. Review,
Stereo Dub,
Isaac Hayes,
Bluetip,
U.S. Maple,
Letta Mbulu,
The United States of America,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Almond,
Tres Demented,
Jacques Brel,
Rod Modell,
Alphaville,
Aaron Thompson,
The Tremeloes,
Black Pus,
Dawn Penn,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.