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 Mongolia and from Spokane.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kenny Larkin to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Suburban Knight,
The Cure,
The Real Kids,
Delta 5,
Clear Light,
The Divine Comedy,
Neil Young,
Scientists,
The Monks,
The Move,
Liliput,
Minnie Riperton,
Patti Smith,
Siglo XX,
Skriet,
Nas,
Spandau Ballet,
Donny Hathaway,
The Doors,
Motorama,
Oblivians,
Jawbox,
Terry Callier,
Skaos,
The Star Department,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sound Behaviour,
Hardrive,
T. Rex,
Lindisfarne,
Technova,
Underground Resistance,
Warren Ellis,
Black Moon,
Sandy B,
Skarface,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Hood,
The Neon Judgement,
Piero Umiliani,
Von Mondo,
JFA,
The Cramps,
Pagans,
Sun City Girls,
The Moleskins,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Visage,
Neu!,
The Leaves,
The J.B.'s,
Rosa Yemen,
Brand Nubian,
Negative Approach,
a-ha,
Hoover,
Funky Four + One,
Minny Pops,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.