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 Switzerland and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Donald Fagen 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 Cowsills to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
EPMD,
Ronan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Blossom Toes,
Donald Byrd,
The Durutti Column,
Tim Buckley,
Eve St. Jones,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Slave,
Roxy Music,
Jesper Dahlback,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Normal,
Urselle,
AZ,
Boredoms,
Bauhaus,
Tomorrow,
Davy DMX,
June Days,
Funkadelic,
Lee Hazlewood,
Y Pants,
Danielle Patucci,
Scan 7,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Byrd,
Yazoo,
Howard Jones,
Black Bananas,
The Remains,
Kayak,
The Young Rascals,
Marvin Gaye,
Wally Richardson,
Zapp,
Funky Four + One,
Wasted Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Accadde A,
The Selecter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Organ,
Essential Logic,
CMW,
Gong,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ultra Naté,
Bill Wells,
a-ha,
Crooked Eye,
Mad Mike,
Cybotron,
Skriet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Porter Ricks,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.