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 Burundi and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
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 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 Donald Fagen 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the funk 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Index,
The Zeros,
The Saints,
Anthony Braxton,
Nils Olav,
PIL,
The Velvet Underground,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wire,
Youth Brigade,
Funkadelic,
Rosa Yemen,
Mo-Dettes,
Brand Nubian,
Porter Ricks,
Marmalade,
Fugazi,
Lalann,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sugar Minott,
the Sonics,
Yazoo,
The Real Kids,
John Coltrane,
Flipper,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
One Last Wish,
Visage,
the Association,
Black Bananas,
DJ Sneak,
Bizarre Inc.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Intrusion,
Circle Jerks,
Ohio Players,
Bad Manners,
The Motions,
Lyres,
Cameo,
Todd Terry,
Lindisfarne,
Stiv Bators,
Brass Construction,
Fela Kuti,
Metal Thangz,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Christie,
Soft Cell,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alison Limerick,
Juan Atkins,
Gichy Dan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moebius,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.