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 Portugal and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Soul II Soul to the grunge 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Todd Rundgren,
Todd Terry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Qualms,
Cybotron,
The Cramps,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soulsonic Force,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Human League,
Lakeside,
The Leaves,
The Beau Brummels,
Crime,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terry Callier,
John Holt,
The Slackers,
Bob Dylan,
The Monochrome Set,
Piero Umiliani,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minor Threat,
Fad Gadget,
48th St. Collective,
Robert Wyatt,
Mantronix,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camouflage,
Pole,
Dave Gahan,
Moby Grape,
The Gladiators,
Soul II Soul,
Barry Ungar,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Bar-Kays,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pylon,
The Sonics,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Moon,
X-Ray Spex,
the Association,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Shadows of Knight,
New Order,
Outsiders,
Niagra,
Y Pants,
Basic Channel,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alphaville,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Certain Ratio,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Birthday Party,
The Five Americans,
Wasted Youth,
the Sonics,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.