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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Lou Reed 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 Skatalites to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Freddie Wadling,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Frankie Knuckles,
ABBA,
A Certain Ratio,
Depeche Mode,
Brothers Johnson,
The Divine Comedy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Last Poets,
Guru Guru,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Iggy Pop,
Unwound,
Hasil Adkins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Porter Ricks,
F. McDonald,
Fad Gadget,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pere Ubu,
Eric Copeland,
Accadde A,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wire,
EPMD,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cure,
Oneida,
The Kinks,
U.S. Maple,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Martian,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Country Teasers,
Jeff Lynne,
Eden Ahbez,
Yaz,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lalann,
Silicon Teens,
Ralphi Rosario,
Skarface,
Roy Ayers,
Skaos,
Technova,
Sixth Finger,
Marine Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
X-101,
Reagan Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Reuben Wilson,
Harry Pussy,
Suicide,
Camberwell Now,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barbara Tucker,
Althea and Donna,
Susan Cadogan,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.