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 Saudi Arabia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Terrestrial Tones to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget 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?
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monochrome Set,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sun Ra,
Black Bananas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Soft Cell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wally Richardson,
Sparks,
Infiniti,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bush Tetras,
Niagra,
Lakeside,
The Count Five,
Hashim,
Severed Heads,
The Cowsills,
Hasil Adkins,
The Beau Brummels,
Oblivians,
Echospace,
The Standells,
Model 500,
Fatback Band,
These Immortal Souls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Bourne,
The Walker Brothers,
Bob Dylan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blossom Toes,
Morten Harket,
Slave,
Marcia Griffiths,
Avey Tare,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pere Ubu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Glenn Branca,
EPMD,
Erasure,
Pagans,
Adolescents,
The Dead C,
Fear,
Roxette,
The Index,
MDC,
The United States of America,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Animal Collective,
Kurtis Blow,
the Human League,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aswad,
B.T. Express,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.