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 Armenia and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Slackers to the rock 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Black Pus,
Yaz,
Sarah Menescal,
Subhumans,
Roger Hodgson,
the Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Morten Harket,
CMW,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Litter,
Supertramp,
Desert Stars,
Brass Construction,
Judy Mowatt,
Carl Craig,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Franke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The New Christs,
Danielle Patucci,
Kayak,
Delta 5,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Johnny Osbourne,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Alphaville,
EPMD,
Trumans Water,
Oneida,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Normal,
Mark Hollis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bluetip,
The Divine Comedy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eden Ahbez,
Chris Corsano,
Barbara Tucker,
Soft Machine,
The Young Rascals,
Rufus Thomas,
The Blackbyrds,
Animal Collective,
Hashim,
The Walker Brothers,
Tomorrow,
The Doobie Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Jeff Mills,
Sun Ra,
Andrew Hill,
Tubeway Army,
Popol Vuh,
Cluster,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.