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 Madagascar and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Jerry Gold Smith 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
June of 44,
Delon & Dalcan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kurtis Blow,
Crime,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David Axelrod,
Little Man,
Wasted Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Slick Rick,
Skriet,
Michelle Simonal,
Graham Central Station,
DJ Sneak,
Echospace,
Cecil Taylor,
Althea and Donna,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roxette,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Technova,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joy Division,
Scan 7,
The Fortunes,
The Neon Judgement,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rosa Yemen,
Magazine,
Josef K,
Glambeats Corp.,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fire Engines,
Sällskapet,
Motorama,
Stereo Dub,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roy Ayers,
Ice-T,
Rakim,
Loose Ends,
L. Decosne,
Deakin,
Drexciya,
Gang of Four,
The Blues Magoos,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Pus,
Can,
The Leaves,
Sex Pistols,
Gastr Del Sol,
EPMD,
Hoover,
Sister Nancy,
Chris Corsano,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.