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 Solomon Islands and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Ohio Players to the jazz 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
kango's stein massive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stereo Dub,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Graham Central Station,
UT,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Selecter,
The Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
Ultra Naté,
Yusef Lateef,
Inner City,
Yellowson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
48th St. Collective,
The Motions,
Ken Boothe,
David Bowie,
the Swans,
Drexciya,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott Heron,
Intrusion,
Patti Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Skarface,
The Kinks,
a-ha,
Eddi Front,
Henry Cow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nils Olav,
Suicide,
Sam Rivers,
Lungfish,
Ohio Players,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rotary Connection,
Eli Mardock,
The Gories,
Livin' Joy,
New York Dolls,
ABBA,
Duran Duran,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Smog,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Names,
Donny Hathaway,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Matthew Bourne,
Albert Ayler,
The Barracudas,
Swans,
Organ,
Q65,
Oblivians,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.