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 Liberia and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Fatback Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Urselle,
The Blackbyrds,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Five Americans,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fat Boys,
Jawbox,
Absolute Body Control,
Qualms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mr. Review,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Christie,
Pagans,
Derrick May,
Subhumans,
Bobby Womack,
The Victims,
The Durutti Column,
Eden Ahbez,
Sam Rivers,
Country Teasers,
Eurythmics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter & Gordon,
The Smiths,
Thee Headcoats,
The Wake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wally Richardson,
The Fire Engines,
Hardrive,
Electric Prunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lindisfarne,
Marvin Gaye,
Piero Umiliani,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Erasure,
Donald Byrd,
Yellowson,
Freddie Wadling,
Mary Jane Girls,
Make Up,
Fugazi,
Rapeman,
Fad Gadget,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Sheep,
Aloha Tigers,
JFA,
June of 44,
Faust,
Duran Duran,
Television,
Minutemen,
Reagan Youth,
Japan,
Kenny Larkin,
Trumans Water,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.