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 Burkina and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Tomorrow,
The Fall,
Leonard Cohen,
Rod Modell,
Fugazi,
Cybotron,
Black Pus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Arab on Radar,
Moby Grape,
The Associates,
X-102,
Model 500,
Traffic Nightmare,
Motorama,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Henry Cow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
David Axelrod,
Bill Wells,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Christie,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Index,
Spoonie Gee,
Desert Stars,
Agitation Free,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ronnie Foster,
Brothers Johnson,
Rufus Thomas,
Slave,
The Motions,
Joyce Sims,
Isaac Hayes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Talk Talk,
Althea and Donna,
X-101,
Boz Scaggs,
Sight & Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ten City,
Andrew Hill,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Buckinghams,
The Victims,
The American Breed,
Alice Coltrane,
Byron Stingily,
June Days,
Severed Heads,
Deadbeat,
Rites of Spring,
John Cale,
The Sound,
Inner City,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.