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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 Siglo XX to the disco 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Blancmange,
The Mummies,
X-Ray Spex,
The Searchers,
The Index,
The Wake,
Dennis Brown,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fuzztones,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Cowsills,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Electric Prunes,
The Angels of Light,
U.S. Maple,
Basic Channel,
Kerri Chandler,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
EPMD,
Intrusion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Warren Ellis,
Icehouse,
Crispian St. Peters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Althea and Donna,
Yaz,
Angry Samoans,
Jeff Mills,
Jeff Lynne,
Liliput,
Pylon,
The Busters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Albert Ayler,
David Bowie,
Simply Red,
Henry Cow,
Section 25,
Hoover,
Darondo,
Talk Talk,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Black Sheep,
Chrome,
Khruangbin,
Scrapy,
Fat Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Howard Jones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Cale,
Mars,
Rod Modell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Heaven 17,
The Blues Magoos,
Easy Going,
Ludus,
Stetsasonic,
The Music Machine,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.