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 Turkmenistan and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Todd Terry to the crunk 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Loose Ends,
Black Sheep,
Cluster,
Byron Stingily,
Procol Harum,
The Tremeloes,
Marine Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
The Searchers,
The Velvet Underground,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pole,
David Axelrod,
The Alarm Clocks,
Althea and Donna,
The Litter,
New York Dolls,
The Kinks,
Skaos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Moon,
Maleditus Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New Age Steppers,
Juan Atkins,
Rufus Thomas,
Reagan Youth,
Clear Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Saints,
Unwound,
The Young Rascals,
Adolescents,
Technova,
John Holt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ronan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ituana,
Dave Gahan,
Derrick May,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Janne Schatter,
Sonic Youth,
Spandau Ballet,
Shoche,
Cal Tjader,
Faust,
Icehouse,
Roxy Music,
Fluxion,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Deadbeat,
Banda Bassotti,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.