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 Peru and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 a-ha to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Nik Kershaw,
Drexciya,
The Buckinghams,
Little Man,
The Fugs,
Shuggie Otis,
Inner City,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fugazi,
Hot Snakes,
Kaleidoscope,
Crime,
Spoonie Gee,
Jeff Mills,
Jerry's Kids,
Andrew Hill,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sandy B,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eric Dolphy,
Marmalade,
T. Rex,
the Swans,
Funky Four + One,
Boz Scaggs,
Minutemen,
Dark Day,
Ponytail,
Brick,
These Immortal Souls,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Zapp,
Sonic Youth,
Man Parrish,
The American Breed,
Delon & Dalcan,
Max Romeo,
Nas,
The Barracudas,
Harry Pussy,
Unwound,
Mo-Dettes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Danielle Patucci,
the Germs,
The Stooges,
Drive Like Jehu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Red Krayola,
Rites of Spring,
Swell Maps,
Dead Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Joe Smooth,
Josef K,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.