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 Uzbekistan and from Glasgow.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Litter to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Essential Logic,
In Retrospect,
Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Oneida,
Bang On A Can,
Television,
Khruangbin,
The Fuzztones,
Traffic Nightmare,
Slick Rick,
MC5,
New Order,
Clear Light,
Todd Rundgren,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers,
Little Man,
K-Klass,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minny Pops,
New Age Steppers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Matthew Bourne,
MDC,
Quantec,
Blossom Toes,
Alison Limerick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
D'Angelo,
Con Funk Shun,
Ornette Coleman,
Godley & Creme,
Spoonie Gee,
Shuggie Otis,
Niagra,
Bauhaus,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Connie Case,
John Coltrane,
Technova,
UT,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ohio Players,
Juan Atkins,
Adolescents,
Michelle Simonal,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sparks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Procol Harum,
Section 25,
John Lydon,
Ultravox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Archie Shepp,
The Pretty Things,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.