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 Haiti and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 Quantec to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Don Cherry,
Roger Hodgson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hashim,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Sound,
The Mummies,
Glenn Branca,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slave,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Stiv Bators,
Brothers Johnson,
Quando Quango,
Camberwell Now,
Stereo Dub,
Crime,
Marine Girls,
Gang of Four,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fuzztones,
Soft Cell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Zero Boys,
Gang Green,
Leonard Cohen,
Whodini,
Television,
The Grass Roots,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Spandau Ballet,
Byron Stingily,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alphaville,
Electric Prunes,
Bill Near,
Gabor Szabo,
Rufus Thomas,
Grauzone,
The Slackers,
H. Thieme,
Althea and Donna,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arab on Radar,
Groovy Waters,
Fluxion,
The Gories,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Move,
Bob Dylan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Youth Brigade,
Lakeside,
The Golliwogs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Little Man,
Section 25,
Spoonie Gee,
Thee Headcoats,
Alison Limerick,
AZ,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.