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 Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Coltrane to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Negative Approach,
Newcleus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Vogues,
Gang Starr,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Quando Quango,
David Axelrod,
The Walker Brothers,
Procol Harum,
The Fugs,
Slick Rick,
Radio Birdman,
The Fuzztones,
Bronski Beat,
Wasted Youth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Zeros,
Intrusion,
The Cowsills,
Warsaw,
Trumans Water,
FM Einheit,
Darondo,
Lungfish,
Royal Trux,
Swans,
F. McDonald,
Arthur Verocai,
Gong,
Interpol,
Ituana,
The Cure,
Robert Hood,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sparks,
Yellowson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Liliput,
Qualms,
Pylon,
The Birthday Party,
Mo-Dettes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hashim,
Pantaleimon,
Spandau Ballet,
Subhumans,
Ossler,
Wally Richardson,
D'Angelo,
La Düsseldorf,
Ice-T,
Stetsasonic,
The Barracudas,
E-Dancer,
The Busters,
T. Rex,
Moby Grape,
Davy DMX,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.