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 Sudan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 X-102 to the crunk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ossler,
Bauhaus,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gap Band,
The Litter,
Matthew Halsall,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cowsills,
These Immortal Souls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Desert Stars,
EPMD,
Toni Rubio,
John Foxx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lalann,
Spandau Ballet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
MC5,
Fad Gadget,
Scott Walker,
Funky Four + One,
Tropical Tobacco,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eddi Front,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Groovy Waters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Reagan Youth,
Livin' Joy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Silicon Teens,
The Kinks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jandek,
The Gladiators,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül,
Harry Pussy,
Scion,
Crime,
Black Flag,
Boredoms,
Graham Central Station,
John Cale,
Hot Snakes,
Maurizio,
Qualms,
Hoover,
Sparks,
Kayak,
Anthony Braxton,
Fluxion,
The Star Department,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aural Exciters,
Pole,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.