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 Iceland and from Mumbai.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Blancmange to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Rosa Yemen,
Qualms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crime,
Carl Craig,
Althea and Donna,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Audionom,
Bauhaus,
Scrapy,
Ohio Players,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yellowson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Depeche Mode,
The Selecter,
Mr. Review,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brothers Johnson,
Erasure,
Sarah Menescal,
Bronski Beat,
Yaz,
Jerry's Kids,
John Lydon,
John Holt,
Von Mondo,
David McCallum,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roxette,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nico,
Tears for Fears,
Yazoo,
Outsiders,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Reed,
Cameo,
Cybotron,
Roy Ayers,
Graham Central Station,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scion,
The Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Clear Light,
Sight & Sound,
Echospace,
Duran Duran,
Talk Talk,
Young Marble Giants,
Sister Nancy,
Easy Going,
Mad Mike,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Index,
New Order,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Model 500,
The Smiths,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.