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 Liechtenstein and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Soul II Soul to the disco 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cal Tjader,
The Saints,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Zero Boys,
Groovy Waters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dual Sessions,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sällskapet,
Lyres,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scott Walker,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Lynne,
Scientists,
Lalann,
Jandek,
Radio Birdman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The New Christs,
Unrelated Segments,
Archie Shepp,
Stiv Bators,
Reuben Wilson,
U.S. Maple,
Bill Wells,
Derrick May,
Spandau Ballet,
Pantaleimon,
Crash Course in Science,
Schoolly D,
the Bar-Kays,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Blackbyrds,
This Heat,
Juan Atkins,
Flipper,
Thompson Twins,
The Fugs,
June Days,
Alison Limerick,
Agitation Free,
The Velvet Underground,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Cell,
The Evens,
Rakim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skriet,
Trumans Water,
Magma,
Barry Ungar,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Starr,
Anakelly,
Organ,
Los Fastidios,
Kaleidoscope,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.