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 Russia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Max Romeo to the techno 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Starr,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ken Boothe,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ohio Players,
Panda Bear,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moleskins,
The Selecter,
Lungfish,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
X-101,
Interpol,
Das Ding,
Minutemen,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cowsills,
Erykah Badu,
Neu!,
The American Breed,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eddi Front,
Liliput,
The Buckinghams,
Public Enemy,
Anthony Braxton,
Carl Craig,
The Birthday Party,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Five Americans,
Agitation Free,
Deadbeat,
Faraquet,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Holt,
The Remains,
Adolescents,
Vladislav Delay,
Derrick May,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dead C,
Supertramp,
Depeche Mode,
The Index,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Fraelich,
Intrusion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aaron Thompson,
Whodini,
Soul II Soul,
K-Klass,
Robert Görl,
The Walker Brothers,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Divine Comedy,
Connie Case,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.