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 Solomon Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
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 Nile Rodgers 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 Thee Headcoats to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
La Düsseldorf,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maurizio,
Maleditus Sound,
Echospace,
Gichy Dan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang Starr,
Altered Images,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sandy B,
Pierre Henry,
The Moleskins,
Lucky Dragons,
The Selecter,
Scientists,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Scion,
Accadde A,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Music Machine,
Eddi Front,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-101,
UT,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Index,
Agent Orange,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Spoonie Gee,
Faust,
Monks,
Q65,
Intrusion,
Quando Quango,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fugs,
Marc Almond,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Warren Ellis,
These Immortal Souls,
Carl Craig,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Bill Wells,
Graham Central Station,
Shuggie Otis,
Grey Daturas,
Reagan Youth,
Amon Düül,
Jacques Brel,
The Star Department,
Eurythmics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bill Near,
Cybotron,
Interpol,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.