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 Dominican Republic and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lyres to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Lou Christie,
a-ha,
Arthur Verocai,
Fugazi,
Drexciya,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Easy Going,
The Raincoats,
Funky Four + One,
Todd Rundgren,
Eurythmics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Skriet,
X-101,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lower 48,
Alison Limerick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Thee Headcoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Connie Case,
Bill Wells,
The Fire Engines,
Cluster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Thompson Twins,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Q and Not U,
Minny Pops,
Camouflage,
Section 25,
Deadbeat,
Magma,
The Blues Magoos,
Eden Ahbez,
Second Layer,
Unwound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Flipper,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amazonics,
Maurizio,
Guru Guru,
John Cale,
These Immortal Souls,
Nick Fraelich,
Boredoms,
Black Pus,
Maleditus Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Porter Ricks,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tommy Roe,
Lee Hazlewood,
Frankie Knuckles,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.