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 Barbados and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Television Personalities to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Derrick May,
The American Breed,
Clear Light,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gong,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
These Immortal Souls,
Stereo Dub,
Black Pus,
Kaleidoscope,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eric Dolphy,
Ice-T,
Japan,
A Certain Ratio,
The Vogues,
Gichy Dan,
EPMD,
Scientists,
Blossom Toes,
The Motions,
Tubeway Army,
Dave Gahan,
Graham Central Station,
Ossler,
Essential Logic,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Bananas,
The Wake,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barrington Levy,
The Zeros,
Pantaleimon,
Quando Quango,
The Gories,
Arcadia,
The Skatalites,
Sam Rivers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Idris Muhammad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Metal Thangz,
Deadbeat,
R.M.O.,
Babytalk,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ronan,
Sarah Menescal,
Susan Cadogan,
John Coltrane,
One Last Wish,
Slave,
The Blackbyrds,
Half Japanese,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fugs,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.