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 Guinea-Bissau and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the funk 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slackers,
Delta 5,
The Searchers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kool Moe Dee,
Robert Görl,
Roger Hodgson,
ABC,
Soft Machine,
Public Image Ltd.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sparks,
Newcleus,
Bill Near,
The Blues Magoos,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Graham Central Station,
June Days,
FM Einheit,
48th St. Collective,
Dennis Brown,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Freddie Wadling,
The Fugs,
Blossom Toes,
Ken Boothe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Happenings,
Amazonics,
The Misunderstood,
Alison Limerick,
Crooked Eye,
Rotary Connection,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Green,
Jerry's Kids,
Idris Muhammad,
Tommy Roe,
The Knickerbockers,
Massinfluence,
the Swans,
Albert Ayler,
Byron Stingily,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radiohead,
The Last Poets,
The Count Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Byrd,
Aloha Tigers,
Bad Manners,
Pagans,
Franke,
Nation of Ulysses,
World's Most,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eurythmics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.