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 Canada and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Archie Shepp,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gun Club,
Cybotron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Au Pairs,
Spandau Ballet,
Lightning Bolt,
Funky Four + One,
Eurythmics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Interpol,
Index,
Metal Thangz,
Swans,
The Evens,
Siglo XX,
Kevin Saunderson,
The New Christs,
F. McDonald,
the Sonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television,
Stereo Dub,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dave Gahan,
Kaleidoscope,
X-Ray Spex,
Byron Stingily,
Derrick May,
Blancmange,
Little Man,
The Misunderstood,
The Offenders,
Mr. Review,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New Order,
Andrew Hill,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Moon,
John Cale,
The Slackers,
The American Breed,
Vladislav Delay,
Boredoms,
AZ,
The Last Poets,
The Dead C,
Tommy Roe,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nirvana,
Dual Sessions,
The Busters,
The Blackbyrds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Infiniti,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Music Machine,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.