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 Latvia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 The New Christs 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Golliwogs,
48th St. Collective,
Zero Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacob Miller,
Absolute Body Control,
The Durutti Column,
The Associates,
David McCallum,
Pere Ubu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Goldenarms,
H. Thieme,
FM Einheit,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fall,
Shuggie Otis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thompson Twins,
Johnny Clarke,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Neon Judgement,
Au Pairs,
Cymande,
The Slits,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Danielle Patucci,
The Gories,
Tom Boy,
Organ,
Gang Starr,
The Divine Comedy,
Fugazi,
Marmalade,
Maurizio,
Kevin Saunderson,
Unrelated Segments,
X-Ray Spex,
The United States of America,
Von Mondo,
Interpol,
Whodini,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mars,
Black Sheep,
Ronan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABBA,
Idris Muhammad,
Theoretical Girls,
Alphaville,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.