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 Senegal and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the dance 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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
cv313,
The Fortunes,
Steve Hackett,
Duran Duran,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang of Four,
Public Enemy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pantaleimon,
Junior Murvin,
Alison Limerick,
The Divine Comedy,
Kenny Larkin,
Joyce Sims,
Jacob Miller,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soul II Soul,
The Smoke,
Cybotron,
Black Flag,
Country Teasers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pole,
La Düsseldorf,
Echospace,
Amon Düül,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Sheep,
The Raincoats,
Ohio Players,
John Cale,
Nils Olav,
The Stooges,
Boredoms,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roxy Music,
Idris Muhammad,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joy Division,
Aswad,
Oneida,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Moon,
Sister Nancy,
Eddi Front,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hot Snakes,
The Mojo Men,
Eurythmics,
Neil Young,
Grauzone,
The United States of America,
the Slits,
Schoolly D,
Tubeway Army,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pierre Henry,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.