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 Jamaica and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Moody Blues to the punk 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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Rakim,
Sam Rivers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tears for Fears,
Carl Craig,
Negative Approach,
Maleditus Sound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Harry Pussy,
Little Man,
Iggy Pop,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Sheep,
The Fugs,
Eddi Front,
The Electric Prunes,
Arcadia,
Lou Reed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Brass Construction,
Minny Pops,
Unwound,
Crime,
Altered Images,
Soul II Soul,
Marine Girls,
Avey Tare,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeru the Damaja,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dave Gahan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Symarip,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Victims,
Kerrie Biddell,
Agent Orange,
The Moody Blues,
Gang of Four,
The Gun Club,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Names,
Sixth Finger,
Swell Maps,
The Leaves,
La Düsseldorf,
Peter & Gordon,
Grauzone,
L. Decosne,
Excepter,
Hashim,
Sound Behaviour,
John Coltrane,
Dual Sessions,
Man Parrish,
The Trojans,
Fatback Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Derrick May,
Animal Collective,
Max Romeo,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.