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 Norway and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Halifax and Lagos.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 These Immortal Souls to the grunge 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nirvana,
The Toasters,
Pierre Henry,
Funkadelic,
Mars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
Joe Smooth,
Panda Bear,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dennis Brown,
Excepter,
China Crisis,
Thee Headcoats,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Minutemen,
Schoolly D,
Janne Schatter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Graham Central Station,
Alphaville,
F. McDonald,
The Skatalites,
Japan,
Carl Craig,
Radiohead,
Eurythmics,
The Blackbyrds,
Stereo Dub,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Christie,
Ronan,
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
Cluster,
Alton Ellis,
Skriet,
Mo-Dettes,
Dave Gahan,
Audionom,
Gichy Dan,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
Franke,
The Kinks,
Eric Dolphy,
Jandek,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Gun Club,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Model 500,
Scott Walker,
Cybotron,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Foxx,
Nick Fraelich,
Wire,
Skarface,
Crash Course in Science,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.