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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb 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 Connie Case to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis 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?
MDC,
Jandek,
The Cramps,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stereo Dub,
Thee Headcoats,
The Music Machine,
Wally Richardson,
Donald Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
Sex Pistols,
Can,
Roger Hodgson,
Surgeon,
Technova,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
EPMD,
Tubeway Army,
Moss Icon,
The Dirtbombs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
June of 44,
World's Most,
Organ,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gun Club,
Danielle Patucci,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fat Boys,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Byrd,
John Lydon,
Gichy Dan,
Main Source,
Don Cherry,
The Doors,
Ronnie Foster,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mad Mike,
Peter and Kerry,
Masters at Work,
Dark Day,
The Happenings,
Derrick May,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wasted Youth,
The Evens,
Sonic Youth,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fire Engines,
The Invisible,
Bluetip,
Cheater Slicks,
L. Decosne,
Althea and Donna,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.