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 Oman and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 ABC to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Brand Nubian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gerry Rafferty,
Danielle Patucci,
Crime,
Robert Wyatt,
Popol Vuh,
John Holt,
Grauzone,
The Mummies,
Toni Rubio,
Quadrant,
Bob Dylan,
Fear,
Terrestrial Tones,
Severed Heads,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare,
The Velvet Underground,
Flipper,
The Real Kids,
Isaac Hayes,
The Busters,
Ornette Coleman,
Sex Pistols,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joe Finger,
Clear Light,
The Gladiators,
June of 44,
The Monks,
Davy DMX,
Country Teasers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rites of Spring,
The Dead C,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cal Tjader,
Eurythmics,
Tears for Fears,
Suicide,
Laurel Aitken,
Frankie Knuckles,
cv313,
John Coltrane,
Faraquet,
Panda Bear,
Ronan,
Television Personalities,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rekid,
Tim Buckley,
The Stooges,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pagans,
Derrick May,
Brick,
Curtis Mayfield,
KRS-One,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.