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 Swaziland and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron 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 Derrick May to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantytec,
Lakeside,
Harmonia,
kango's stein massive,
The Litter,
Saccharine Trust,
Stereo Dub,
Interpol,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultra Naté,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Malaria!,
Eric Dolphy,
Yazoo,
the Swans,
Nils Olav,
Dave Gahan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Index,
Shuggie Otis,
Oneida,
New Age Steppers,
MC5,
Lightning Bolt,
The Residents,
Pet Shop Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dead C,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Count Five,
Aloha Tigers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Leaves,
Connie Case,
Rapeman,
Los Fastidios,
Cameo,
AZ,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Little Man,
Grauzone,
The Neon Judgement,
Gichy Dan,
Roger Hodgson,
Lalann,
Moebius,
Blake Baxter,
Aural Exciters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Byron Stingily,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Deepchord,
Monks,
Camberwell Now,
Surgeon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marshall Jefferson,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.