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 Singapore and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Radiopuhelimet to the electroclash 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Minnie Riperton,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Los Fastidios,
The Tremeloes,
The Remains,
Chris Corsano,
Vladislav Delay,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tres Demented,
Grauzone,
Ken Boothe,
Lalann,
Joyce Sims,
Fluxion,
The Skatalites,
Black Pus,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
June Days,
The Move,
Qualms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Motorama,
Nas,
Graham Central Station,
Prince Buster,
Q and Not U,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soul Sonic Force,
New York Dolls,
Cecil Taylor,
Camouflage,
Sparks,
The Mojo Men,
Sugar Minott,
Ludus,
Pylon,
Joy Division,
Bobby Byrd,
Parry Music,
The Grass Roots,
Eve St. Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Alison Limerick,
Banda Bassotti,
The Motions,
Talk Talk,
Aural Exciters,
The United States of America,
Man Parrish,
The Human League,
Donald Byrd,
Heaven 17,
Gong,
Beasts of Bourbon,
China Crisis,
Archie Shepp,
Lindisfarne,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.