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 Burkina and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tomorrow to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
The Victims,
Subhumans,
Interpol,
Camouflage,
The Index,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crash Course in Science,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Standells,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Judy Mowatt,
R.M.O.,
Harry Pussy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eve St. Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
Roxy Music,
Suburban Knight,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dead C,
Warsaw,
The Kinks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Intrusion,
New Order,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ken Boothe,
Zapp,
X-Ray Spex,
Don Cherry,
Trumans Water,
David Axelrod,
Joyce Sims,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
ABBA,
These Immortal Souls,
AZ,
The Walker Brothers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Alton Ellis,
The New Christs,
Banda Bassotti,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mummies,
Rotary Connection,
Shoche,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Glenn Branca,
Erasure,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pop Group,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harmonia,
Babytalk,
Ultimate Spinach,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lyres,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.