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 Suriname and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
AZ,
Newcleus,
the Slits,
Bang On A Can,
Charles Mingus,
Procol Harum,
Lakeside,
The Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fat Boys,
Blancmange,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeru the Damaja,
B.T. Express,
Brick,
Parry Music,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fear,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Patti Smith,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lalann,
the Human League,
10cc,
Alison Limerick,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultimate Spinach,
Average White Band,
Todd Terry,
The Raincoats,
Trumans Water,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cameo,
Don Cherry,
Smog,
Faust,
The Mummies,
Alphaville,
The Smiths,
John Cale,
Guru Guru,
Echospace,
Dual Sessions,
Shuggie Otis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rekid,
Roy Ayers,
Buzzcocks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Soft Cell,
Cluster,
The Fall,
Nico,
Cybotron,
Wasted Youth,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.