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 Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Buckinghams to the punk 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Main Source,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Vogues,
Flipper,
The Stooges,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DJ Sneak,
Symarip,
Deepchord,
Procol Harum,
Faraquet,
The Saints,
Eddi Front,
Pierre Henry,
The Gun Club,
Eli Mardock,
Boredoms,
Marine Girls,
Ice-T,
Howard Jones,
Johnny Osbourne,
Half Japanese,
The Black Dice,
Jerry's Kids,
a-ha,
Nas,
Alice Coltrane,
Agitation Free,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bill Near,
Supertramp,
La Düsseldorf,
The Dead C,
Wasted Youth,
Theoretical Girls,
Aswad,
Duran Duran,
10cc,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pagans,
the Swans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rod Modell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tubeway Army,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Quantec,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suburban Knight,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Organ,
Pussy Galore,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Depeche Mode,
The Real Kids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scion,
Tomorrow,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.