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 Burkina and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 The Real Kids to the electroclash 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Half Japanese,
Zapp,
The American Breed,
Black Bananas,
Metal Thangz,
John Holt,
Lungfish,
Don Cherry,
Japan,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Knickerbockers,
JFA,
The Cowsills,
Radio Birdman,
Eric Copeland,
Lebanon Hanover,
Make Up,
Section 25,
John Coltrane,
Circle Jerks,
Howard Jones,
Blossom Toes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Starr,
Judy Mowatt,
Duran Duran,
The Flesh Eaters,
Theoretical Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kurtis Blow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Leaves,
Von Mondo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Outsiders,
The Human League,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gories,
Technova,
B.T. Express,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Beau Brummels,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott Heron,
Motorama,
The Gun Club,
Joey Negro,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Freddie Wadling,
The Angels of Light,
Pantaleimon,
Lightning Bolt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ituana,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.