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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-102,
Toni Rubio,
Fugazi,
T.S.O.L.,
The Young Rascals,
Blossom Toes,
Massinfluence,
the Slits,
The Pop Group,
Henry Cow,
Skarface,
Audionom,
Ultravox,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Soft Cell,
The Count Five,
Wasted Youth,
Ludus,
the Germs,
Bobby Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fear,
Tres Demented,
John Holt,
Half Japanese,
The Dead C,
Yusef Lateef,
In Retrospect,
Quadrant,
Sarah Menescal,
Au Pairs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bronski Beat,
Hasil Adkins,
Scientists,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nas,
Duran Duran,
Babytalk,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smoke,
Matthew Bourne,
Donald Byrd,
The Motions,
Qualms,
Man Parrish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Tears for Fears,
Urselle,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Sherman,
The Sonics,
Cameo,
Icehouse,
DNA,
Derrick May,
Graham Central Station,
Donny Hathaway,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.