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 Israel and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Wasted Youth,
The Red Krayola,
Oneida,
Animal Collective,
Ten City,
Cheater Slicks,
Kas Product,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nation of Ulysses,
D'Angelo,
Shuggie Otis,
Groovy Waters,
Franke,
The Golliwogs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ludus,
Fad Gadget,
the Soft Cell,
Scan 7,
Dorothy Ashby,
Schoolly D,
Malaria!,
Black Pus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brothers Johnson,
cv313,
Warren Ellis,
David Axelrod,
Todd Rundgren,
Grandmaster Flash,
Matthew Halsall,
The Neon Judgement,
Lalann,
Adolescents,
Sun City Girls,
Au Pairs,
Newcleus,
H. Thieme,
Pere Ubu,
Jerry's Kids,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sparks,
Howard Jones,
Kerri Chandler,
Excepter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Heaven 17,
Mad Mike,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kevin Saunderson,
Albert Ayler,
Gichy Dan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Spoonie Gee,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lakeside,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.