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 Swaziland and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer 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 Wally Richardson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Bronski Beat,
Bill Wells,
X-102,
Marshall Jefferson,
Von Mondo,
The New Christs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Excepter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Delon & Dalcan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Tremeloes,
Aloha Tigers,
the Association,
The Cramps,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lucky Dragons,
The Associates,
Monks,
Popol Vuh,
Technova,
Simply Red,
Tears for Fears,
Neil Young,
Kaleidoscope,
Jawbox,
Mad Mike,
LL Cool J,
Basic Channel,
The Walker Brothers,
Hardrive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Black Dice,
Sex Pistols,
Oneida,
Joe Finger,
The Monks,
John Foxx,
The Gories,
Pagans,
Pole,
Amazonics,
Con Funk Shun,
the Normal,
JFA,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Darondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Goldenarms,
Angry Samoans,
Swans,
Liliput,
Fat Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
Chrome,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
This Heat,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.