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 Iceland and from New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 H. Thieme 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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Associates,
Sam Rivers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Depeche Mode,
Ice-T,
The Monochrome Set,
Index,
Flipper,
The Music Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Bootsy Collins,
Clear Light,
Spoonie Gee,
the Human League,
Pere Ubu,
The Moleskins,
The Victims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The New Christs,
The Techniques,
Malaria!,
Scrapy,
Brass Construction,
Flash Fearless,
Mars,
Masters at Work,
Dark Day,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Byrd,
The Slackers,
Eurythmics,
Darondo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jimmy McGriff,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
K-Klass,
Quando Quango,
The Wake,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultravox,
The Searchers,
Pussy Galore,
Alice Coltrane,
Albert Ayler,
Eden Ahbez,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Christie,
Peter and Kerry,
La Düsseldorf,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Simply Red,
Aaron Thompson,
Sister Nancy,
Leonard Cohen,
Alton Ellis,
Pylon,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.