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 Malawi and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
One Last Wish,
Mark Hollis,
The Music Machine,
New Order,
Freddie Wadling,
Jacques Brel,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Sheep,
The Zeros,
Deadbeat,
Mission of Burma,
Livin' Joy,
Rotary Connection,
Sonny Sharrock,
The J.B.'s,
Newcleus,
48th St. Collective,
U.S. Maple,
A Certain Ratio,
Skaos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Derrick Morgan,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter & Gordon,
Little Man,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dual Sessions,
Amon Düül II,
CMW,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Coltrane,
Yellowson,
Wolf Eyes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Goldenarms,
FM Einheit,
The Durutti Column,
Byron Stingily,
Lakeside,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The New Christs,
The Move,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stiv Bators,
Joe Finger,
Banda Bassotti,
Pharoah Sanders,
Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eddi Front,
Moss Icon,
Erykah Badu,
Marine Girls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Warren Ellis,
Don Cherry,
Robert Hood,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Human League,
ABC,
Flamin' Groovies,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.