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 Mexico and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lebanon Hanover to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Make Up,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dead Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Victims,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ludus,
Fela Kuti,
Eric Copeland,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
This Heat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Con Funk Shun,
the Human League,
Mark Hollis,
The Leaves,
Ituana,
Model 500,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wings,
Roxette,
X-101,
Donald Byrd,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Todd Terry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
cv313,
Brand Nubian,
Terry Callier,
Half Japanese,
Chris Corsano,
The Move,
June of 44,
Sly & The Family Stone,
X-102,
Procol Harum,
Letta Mbulu,
Kayak,
Gang Green,
Marshall Jefferson,
L. Decosne,
The Index,
Eric Dolphy,
Roxy Music,
The Zeros,
Amazonics,
The Standells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fall,
The Toasters,
Ten City,
Lou Reed,
Peter & Gordon,
The Vogues,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Womack,
Icehouse,
Nik Kershaw,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.