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 Brunei and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Letta Mbulu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Letta Mbulu,
Gong,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Livin' Joy,
Glenn Branca,
Groovy Waters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Siglo XX,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thompson Twins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brick,
Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Minutemen,
Andrew Hill,
Amazonics,
Grauzone,
Wally Richardson,
Thee Headcoats,
Swans,
The Sonics,
Model 500,
David McCallum,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Monks,
ABBA,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stetsasonic,
Maleditus Sound,
the Swans,
Joyce Sims,
Television,
Alice Coltrane,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Minnie Riperton,
Funky Four + One,
Harpers Bizarre,
Basic Channel,
Todd Terry,
Chris Corsano,
Althea and Donna,
10cc,
Desert Stars,
Subhumans,
Gang of Four,
The Dead C,
Metal Thangz,
Steve Hackett,
Jacques Brel,
Country Teasers,
The Offenders,
Technova,
The Monks,
Soul Sonic Force,
June Days,
The Raincoats,
Theoretical Girls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Banda Bassotti,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.