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 Lithuania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Black Dice to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Near,
Alton Ellis,
Panda Bear,
Duran Duran,
Model 500,
The Misunderstood,
FM Einheit,
Grey Daturas,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arcadia,
Skarface,
The Birthday Party,
David Axelrod,
Sister Nancy,
Oneida,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Terry,
The Kinks,
Guru Guru,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Liliput,
a-ha,
Con Funk Shun,
Frankie Knuckles,
Outsiders,
Erykah Badu,
Circle Jerks,
Funkadelic,
Dave Gahan,
Simply Red,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Move,
ABC,
Ice-T,
Ohio Players,
Kerri Chandler,
The Barracudas,
Crime,
10cc,
T. Rex,
In Retrospect,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hot Snakes,
Nico,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jimmy McGriff,
Arab on Radar,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Drexciya,
The Toasters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Magazine,
Porter Ricks,
Pulsallama,
Sarah Menescal,
Fatback Band,
Talk Talk,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.