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 Turkey and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron 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 The Electric Prunes to the rock 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
FM Einheit,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pharoah Sanders,
U.S. Maple,
Y Pants,
Ultravox,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tears for Fears,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pantaleimon,
Nas,
Underground Resistance,
Kerrie Biddell,
One Last Wish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Sherman,
Johnny Clarke,
Ponytail,
Judy Mowatt,
Janne Schatter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Angry Samoans,
Bush Tetras,
Parry Music,
8 Eyed Spy,
Liliput,
Average White Band,
Slave,
Newcleus,
The Birthday Party,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mars,
The Move,
Ten City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mandrill,
Ohio Players,
Sun Ra,
Moby Grape,
This Heat,
The Standells,
Mark Hollis,
Absolute Body Control,
John Holt,
Chrome,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stiv Bators,
Black Flag,
X-101,
Can,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.