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 Antigua and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Das Ding to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camberwell Now,
the Sonics,
Y Pants,
Average White Band,
The Neon Judgement,
The Happenings,
Young Marble Giants,
Nick Fraelich,
Pulsallama,
Nils Olav,
Janne Schatter,
Desert Stars,
R.M.O.,
Cameo,
Scan 7,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Red Krayola,
The Litter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chris & Cosey,
The Angels of Light,
Sandy B,
Talk Talk,
Matthew Halsall,
Duran Duran,
Hardrive,
Wasted Youth,
Joey Negro,
The Dead C,
Fat Boys,
The Slits,
DJ Sneak,
Joe Finger,
Cluster,
the Normal,
Mars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Freddie Wadling,
The Index,
Smog,
Surgeon,
B.T. Express,
The Cramps,
The Fall,
Peter and Kerry,
Bad Manners,
Roxette,
Bobby Womack,
Rakim,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Standells,
Quadrant,
Popol Vuh,
The Slackers,
Masters at Work,
the Slits,
Pierre Henry,
Yaz,
The Blackbyrds,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.