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 Afghanistan and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Pierre Henry to the punk 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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Nation of Ulysses,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Iggy Pop,
Barry Ungar,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Visage,
Swell Maps,
The Doobie Brothers,
Oblivians,
Porter Ricks,
Simply Red,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Normal,
Niagra,
Quando Quango,
Terrestrial Tones,
Swans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Skriet,
Von Mondo,
Scratch Acid,
Morten Harket,
Crime,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
Marvin Gaye,
Silicon Teens,
Subhumans,
Minor Threat,
Fear,
Marc Almond,
Gichy Dan,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
Deepchord,
Charles Mingus,
The Moleskins,
Circle Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Albert Ayler,
Nico,
Excepter,
U.S. Maple,
The New Christs,
Al Stewart,
The Monks,
Mr. Review,
Stiv Bators,
Joey Negro,
Freddie Wadling,
Audionom,
Quadrant,
Lindisfarne,
Smog,
Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Man Parrish,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.