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 Togo and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Nile Rodgers 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 R.M.O. to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Evens,
Fela Kuti,
Nas,
Franke,
Eric Copeland,
Bang On A Can,
Kerri Chandler,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Byrd,
Pulsallama,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mojo Men,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
Arthur Verocai,
the Bar-Kays,
The Blues Magoos,
Trumans Water,
Duran Duran,
Spandau Ballet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lalann,
Patti Smith,
AZ,
Grauzone,
Dennis Brown,
Zero Boys,
The Vogues,
Ken Boothe,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Trojans,
Technova,
Mr. Review,
Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Golliwogs,
The Victims,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Juan Atkins,
These Immortal Souls,
The Pop Group,
Marmalade,
Radiopuhelimet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cal Tjader,
the Human League,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minor Threat,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Silicon Teens,
Erasure,
Black Bananas,
Buzzcocks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Age Steppers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.