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 Israel and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare 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 The Fire Engines to the techno 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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Thee Headcoats,
Rekid,
the Human League,
Johnny Clarke,
Althea and Donna,
Pylon,
Mars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Desert Stars,
Suburban Knight,
The Birthday Party,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tommy Roe,
Livin' Joy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bobby Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ituana,
Robert Hood,
Gerry Rafferty,
Unrelated Segments,
Y Pants,
Eden Ahbez,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moebius,
Aaron Thompson,
Deadbeat,
The Saints,
The Invisible,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Niagra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Swans,
the Association,
Sandy B,
Groovy Waters,
Pantaleimon,
Jacob Miller,
Tubeway Army,
Crash Course in Science,
Nas,
Kerri Chandler,
Faraquet,
Funkadelic,
Ornette Coleman,
The Raincoats,
Spandau Ballet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bluetip,
Cecil Taylor,
Donald Byrd,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tomorrow,
Yazoo,
Deepchord,
The Happenings,
Robert Görl,
Arcadia,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.