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 Mauritania and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Howard Jones to the dance 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Vladislav Delay,
Derrick May,
Scion,
Shuggie Otis,
Rekid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Henry Cow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Hood,
Gang of Four,
Bill Wells,
Suicide,
Warren Ellis,
Warsaw,
John Coltrane,
The Smiths,
Pussy Galore,
Sonic Youth,
Scrapy,
Mission of Burma,
Gabor Szabo,
Mark Hollis,
Subhumans,
Althea and Donna,
Vainqueur,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Make Up,
Mars,
The American Breed,
Jandek,
Metal Thangz,
Dual Sessions,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Swans,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Loose Ends,
Amon Düül,
Los Fastidios,
Joy Division,
Monks,
Barry Ungar,
Barclay James Harvest,
In Retrospect,
Carl Craig,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hardrive,
Black Bananas,
The Saints,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ken Boothe,
New Age Steppers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
CMW,
ABBA,
Tommy Roe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.