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 Seychelles and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Chrome to the grunge 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eve St. Jones,
The Red Krayola,
Subhumans,
Wasted Youth,
Mantronix,
Duran Duran,
Shoche,
Rekid,
Bob Dylan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Man Parrish,
Spandau Ballet,
Morten Harket,
Chris Corsano,
Tears for Fears,
Funky Four + One,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cowsills,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tomorrow,
Jeff Mills,
Monks,
Outsiders,
cv313,
Malaria!,
Darondo,
The Star Department,
Yaz,
Los Fastidios,
Radiopuhelimet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minnie Riperton,
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Reed,
Mr. Review,
PIL,
Roy Ayers,
Moss Icon,
The Motions,
The Invisible,
Echospace,
Radiohead,
Judy Mowatt,
Scion,
Joyce Sims,
The Selecter,
Terry Callier,
Swell Maps,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lucky Dragons,
The Monochrome Set,
Sällskapet,
Royal Trux,
The Searchers,
Mars,
Japan,
Barry Ungar,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.