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 Serbia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Grey Daturas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vladislav Delay,
Faust,
Kas Product,
Mars,
June of 44,
Lucky Dragons,
Erasure,
John Coltrane,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Angels of Light,
Newcleus,
CMW,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Foxx,
Sun City Girls,
The Cure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Theoretical Girls,
The Walker Brothers,
KRS-One,
Subhumans,
Scion,
The Raincoats,
Harry Pussy,
Television,
Camouflage,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eddi Front,
Blancmange,
Jeff Lynne,
The Barracudas,
Mantronix,
Interpol,
Suicide,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pylon,
The Dead C,
Shoche,
Prince Buster,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rod Modell,
AZ,
Monks,
Average White Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Malaria!,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Index,
Negative Approach,
Albert Ayler,
B.T. Express,
Flash Fearless,
Slick Rick,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Swans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
DNA,
Sight & Sound,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.