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 Iran and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Half Japanese to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Fear,
Pantytec,
Absolute Body Control,
Jeff Mills,
Blake Baxter,
Drexciya,
Stereo Dub,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mantronix,
Brand Nubian,
Joyce Sims,
Nick Fraelich,
Angry Samoans,
Average White Band,
Skriet,
Sam Rivers,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Wake,
Radiohead,
Lebanon Hanover,
Malaria!,
Neil Young,
Minny Pops,
48th St. Collective,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pulsallama,
Model 500,
Sparks,
Bush Tetras,
Intrusion,
Ohio Players,
Black Moon,
Charles Mingus,
Mark Hollis,
Isaac Hayes,
The Victims,
Joensuu 1685,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Machine,
B.T. Express,
Nirvana,
Gichy Dan,
Vainqueur,
Quando Quango,
Sight & Sound,
Bill Wells,
Brass Construction,
Circle Jerks,
Echospace,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Age Steppers,
a-ha,
James Chance & The Contortions,
CMW,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Guru Guru,
Metal Thangz,
DNA,
In Retrospect,
Surgeon,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.