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 Fiji and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crash Course in Science to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Eli Mardock,
Goldenarms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Buckinghams,
Yellowson,
Malaria!,
The Invisible,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Au Pairs,
Qualms,
Camouflage,
Roxy Music,
the Association,
Liliput,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mantronix,
Severed Heads,
The Gap Band,
Niagra,
The Fortunes,
Grauzone,
Hasil Adkins,
Scott Walker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Massinfluence,
Kenny Larkin,
The Zeros,
The Kinks,
Monks,
Silicon Teens,
Black Sheep,
The Vogues,
The Birthday Party,
Model 500,
Pylon,
Wings,
Scan 7,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
Black Bananas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moss Icon,
Japan,
Joensuu 1685,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moebius,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül,
Heaven 17,
Blossom Toes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Stetsasonic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rod Modell,
Smog,
Piero Umiliani,
Von Mondo,
Popol Vuh,
Sixth Finger,
Scientists,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.