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 Israel and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Eurythmics to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Masters at Work,
Heaven 17,
Vladislav Delay,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rosa Yemen,
Mr. Review,
The Litter,
The Sound,
Fluxion,
Whodini,
The Birthday Party,
Roger Hodgson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lyres,
Soulsonic Force,
Gregory Isaacs,
Unwound,
Morten Harket,
Erasure,
The Gun Club,
The Cure,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Normal,
The Neon Judgement,
Talk Talk,
Essential Logic,
Swell Maps,
Hoover,
Make Up,
Suburban Knight,
Ronan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Womack,
Faraquet,
Donny Hathaway,
Con Funk Shun,
Dark Day,
The Barracudas,
Zapp,
The Star Department,
Glenn Branca,
KRS-One,
Cybotron,
The Black Dice,
Wasted Youth,
The Monks,
The Doors,
The Dave Clark Five,
Leonard Cohen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ituana,
Sight & Sound,
Silicon Teens,
Colin Newman,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ten City,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Görl,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.