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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Scrapy to the grime 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Monks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Whodini,
Panda Bear,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Angels of Light,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pylon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sound,
June of 44,
JFA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Todd Rundgren,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
Von Mondo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bad Manners,
Alison Limerick,
X-101,
Tres Demented,
Nirvana,
Rekid,
Tim Buckley,
Joyce Sims,
The Last Poets,
The Mummies,
Faust,
Saccharine Trust,
Severed Heads,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kurtis Blow,
Oneida,
Bill Wells,
The Leaves,
T.S.O.L.,
Negative Approach,
Scientists,
Bobby Sherman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Duran Duran,
The Slits,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Style,
Main Source,
Colin Newman,
Moss Icon,
Rotary Connection,
Liliput,
KRS-One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lindisfarne,
Lyres,
Freddie Wadling,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.