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 Comoros and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deepchord to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
The Modern Lovers,
the Soft Cell,
Godley & Creme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lalo Schifrin,
Television,
The Blues Magoos,
Slave,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Little Man,
Soulsonic Force,
Bill Near,
John Foxx,
Tim Buckley,
Gil Scott Heron,
Isaac Hayes,
The Seeds,
Bauhaus,
Oneida,
Vladislav Delay,
John Cale,
Jimmy McGriff,
CMW,
Panda Bear,
Malaria!,
David Axelrod,
The Human League,
Maleditus Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Can,
Fad Gadget,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rekid,
The Real Kids,
David Bowie,
Rod Modell,
Fela Kuti,
The Five Americans,
Joy Division,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gong,
Fluxion,
Eve St. Jones,
Kerri Chandler,
Ronnie Foster,
Lou Christie,
Robert Hood,
Man Parrish,
U.S. Maple,
The Litter,
The Walker Brothers,
Circle Jerks,
Kenny Larkin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Judy Mowatt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Invisible,
Kaleidoscope,
R.M.O.,
Y Pants,
China Crisis,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.