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 Greece and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin 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 the Bar-Kays to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Fatback Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kerri Chandler,
LL Cool J,
Thompson Twins,
Camouflage,
Piero Umiliani,
Clear Light,
Pagans,
The Cowsills,
F. McDonald,
Index,
Throbbing Gristle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pylon,
Cluster,
the Bar-Kays,
Depeche Mode,
The New Christs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skriet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bob Dylan,
The Beau Brummels,
The Offenders,
Talk Talk,
Roger Hodgson,
Sam Rivers,
Andrew Hill,
Main Source,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Brothers Johnson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ten City,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aaron Thompson,
Archie Shepp,
Cybotron,
Flipper,
Patti Smith,
The Smiths,
Suburban Knight,
DNA,
AZ,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cal Tjader,
Glenn Branca,
New Age Steppers,
Bluetip,
Rites of Spring,
John Holt,
Soul II Soul,
The Kinks,
the Swans,
Lungfish,
Tim Buckley,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harmonia,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.