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 Slovenia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba 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 Livin' Joy to the punk 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Sound,
Al Stewart,
Buzzcocks,
The Divine Comedy,
Underground Resistance,
The Mummies,
Jerry's Kids,
X-101,
Fatback Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cameo,
AZ,
Harmonia,
The Stooges,
Tommy Roe,
John Cale,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
Unrelated Segments,
the Sonics,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Martian,
Joyce Sims,
Leonard Cohen,
Au Pairs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minor Threat,
Average White Band,
Flipper,
Agent Orange,
Morten Harket,
John Foxx,
Blancmange,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The J.B.'s,
Freddie Wadling,
Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Inner City,
Bizarre Inc.,
Half Japanese,
The Count Five,
Boogie Down Productions,
Quantec,
The United States of America,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ornette Coleman,
The New Christs,
Anakelly,
Clear Light,
The Cramps,
The Gladiators,
Arthur Verocai,
Glambeats Corp.,
Liliput,
Pantytec,
Rufus Thomas,
Crash Course in Science,
Monks,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.