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 Ivory Coast and from London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 KRS-One to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Siglo XX,
John Cale,
the Association,
Stiv Bators,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
China Crisis,
the Bar-Kays,
Frankie Knuckles,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Gun Club,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
Amon Düül,
Porter Ricks,
The New Christs,
Boredoms,
Sugar Minott,
Scrapy,
The Buckinghams,
The Sonics,
Angry Samoans,
Sex Pistols,
Alton Ellis,
Aural Exciters,
June Days,
Harry Pussy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Interpol,
Malaria!,
Make Up,
The Fire Engines,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Mojo Men,
Laurel Aitken,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Christie,
Public Enemy,
Quando Quango,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Hill,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-102,
Gang Green,
The Dirtbombs,
Alphaville,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Television,
Darondo,
UT,
Y Pants,
Rufus Thomas,
Nico,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mars,
The Blues Magoos,
Warren Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Reed,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.