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 Georgia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Lydon,
The Pretty Things,
Man Parrish,
Crime,
X-102,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
R.M.O.,
Agitation Free,
Organ,
Echospace,
Scrapy,
Depeche Mode,
Negative Approach,
These Immortal Souls,
Pulsallama,
Hashim,
Eden Ahbez,
The Grass Roots,
Ludus,
Theoretical Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scientists,
Shuggie Otis,
Pylon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick Morgan,
The Monks,
Franke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Count Five,
ABBA,
Peter and Kerry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Grauzone,
John Holt,
Fad Gadget,
Vainqueur,
Derrick May,
Donald Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ornette Coleman,
John Foxx,
Saccharine Trust,
Liliput,
James White and The Blacks,
Moss Icon,
Barbara Tucker,
Duran Duran,
Suicide,
Country Teasers,
Stereo Dub,
Nils Olav,
Sun Ra,
Chris & Cosey,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
kango's stein massive,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.